Vita ex Machina
by JanusTheTraveler
Summary: Legion had no idea what it was getting itself into when it agreed to join Shepard's team. A series of one-shots detailing its gradual development from machine into teammate, crew member, and friend.
1. Prologue: The Hole

**[Command_ .0304 _NW006493574347]**

**[Command_ .0304 _NW006493574347**

** DATA_PACKAGE = TRUE**

** ORGANIC_LIFE = FALSE**

** ANOMALY = FALSE ]**

**[Command_ _NW006493574348]**

**[Command_ _NW006493574348**

** _PACKAGE=TRUE**

** _LIFE=FALSE**

** =FALSE ]**

**[Command_ _NW006493574349 ]**

**[Command_ _NW006493574349**

** _PACKAGE=TRUE**

** _LIFE=FALSE**

** =FALSE ]**

Program 0304 scanned another visual through its memory banks. Being a visual imaging program, it was allocated a greater amount of space than most of its compatriots, and every bit was being put to use. Each image received from Program 0783 (eye camera) was broken down into a floating point array, which was then passed through a series of runtimes designed to identify key patterns in the data. Once complete, the runtimes would return a true/false value to Program 0304, which would pass any relevant information to the Collective. The process would then repeat, as it had been doing for the last 6,493,574,349 times.

If it were at all capable of emotions, Program 0304 would be bored stiff. But the Collective was searching, and Program 0304 had to do its part. A small current alerted it to the next package:

**[Command_ _NW006493574356]**

Program 0304 dutifully reduced the image and fed it through its runtimes. An instant later, the response pinged:

**[Command_ 0304 _NW006493574350**

**_PACKAGE=TRUE**

** _LIFE=FALSE**

** =TRUE ]**

Program 0304 paused, circuitry buzzing. An anomaly? Ignoring the ping that announced img_NW006493574351, Program 0304 recycled the image.

**[Command_ _NW006493574350**

** _PACKAGE=TRUE**

** _LIFE=FALSE**

** =TRUE ]**

The test confirmed it: there was an anomaly in the image. What it was, Program 0304 could not say. It quickly pulled up the runtime listing for the anomaly.

**[ANOMOLY_00007: Shepard-Commander_breastplate]**

Well, that was interesting. Program 0304 did not have the processing power to be curious, but it did spend a few picoseconds calculating the exceptionally low odds of encountering that particular anomaly. It quickly sent a report to the Collective, detailing the find. A moment later, Program 1253 (mission goals) added an addendum with the possible implications, and Program 0025 (experimental "curiosity" program) submitted a request to transfer the mobile platform to the site of the anomaly for further examination. This request was quickly seconded by multiple programs. The Collective buzzed and whirred, and 1.32 seconds later achieved consensus.

A command was sent to Program 0841 (leg coordination), which then directed the 56 programs under its control to walk over to the breastplate. The mobile platform turned fluidly and moved to the breastplate. Program 0677 (depth perception) gauged the distance and notified Program 0841 when the platform had come within arms distance of the breastplate. A notice was dispatched to Program 0892 (arm control), and the platform's arms quickly pried the breastplate from the wreckage.

The platform's camera zoomed in and out, focusing on various details of the armor: the scratches and scuffs, the hardened composite polymer finish, and the painted glyphs on the side that Program 1358 (linguistics) identified as " .N" and " .7". All fact-checking and data-processing programs quickly reached consensus: this was indeed Shepard-Commander's armor.

The programs began to communicate rapidly amongst themselves over what to do, and Program 0931 (internal communications) quickly opened a dialogue.

**Fact_0001: Mobile Platform is at Normandy_crash.**

**Fact_0002: Ship crashes are commonly lethal to organic life.**

**Fact_0003: ****Shepard-Commander_breastplate** is at **Normandy_crash**.

**Argument_0001: IF Shepard-Commander's armor is present, THEN Shepard-Commander is here as well.**

**Rebuttal: Shepard-Commander has been observed without armor in the past. Premise does not support conclusion. Argument_0001 logically unsound.**

**Arguement_0002: IF Shepard-Commander's armor is present, THEN Shepard-Commander has likely been here at one point in the past.**

**Confirmed: Shepard-Commander has rarely been observed without armor. Unlikely that armor would appear in a place Shepard-Commander has not been. Arguement_0002 logically sound.**

**Fact_0004: Shepard-Commander was likely at _crash at undetermined time.**

**Arguement_0003: IF Shepard-Commander's armor is present, AND Shepard-Commander is not present, THEN harm may have come to Shepard-Commander.**

**Confirmed: Intelligence reports that Shepard-Commander does not like to leave armor unguarded and unpolished. Since armor is both unguarded and unpolished, some harm likely came to Shepard-Commander to prevent such actions from taking place. Arguement_003 logically sound.**

**Fact_0005: Harm has likely come to Shepard-Commander.**

**Proposed_Consensus_0001: IF Fact_0002,0003,0004,0005 are true, THEN Shepard-Commander was at Normandy_crash at time time_from_crash = 0 and perished in stated crash. Shepard-Commander most likely deceased.**

The Collective pondered over the proposed consensus for approximately .57 seconds before confirming it. All programs agreed: Shepard-Commander was most likely terminated. The geth paused, cycling through a repeat. Their mission had been to find Shepard-Commander, and now Shepard-Commander was dead. Program 0011 (external communications) sent a request to the main collective for a new mission. In the meantime, Program 0841 instructed the legs to continue to move through the site, and Program 0783 moved to continue taking pictures. The platform turned...

**Proposed_Consensus_0002: IF Consensus_0001 is true, THEN mobile platform should use ****Shepard-Commander_breastplate **to repair damage to upper torso.

The programs stopped, each one silently checking with the others to see who had proposed the consensus. No program came forward. Program 0993 (hardware repair) sent a rebuttal.

**Rebuttal: Damage to upper torso not extreme enough to warrant excessive repairs. Proposed_Consensus_0002 logically unsound.**

There was a moment, then:

**Rebuttal_Response_0001: There is a hole. Repairs to the hole should be made.**

Again, no program came forward, but ID tags indicated a different culprit. Program 0993 replied:

**Rebuttal: See Rebuttal above. Multitude of superior materials already encountered and rejected because of lack of need.**

Silence. Then, a third anonymous program responded:

**Rebuttal_Response_0002: There is a hole.**

**Rebuttal: Repairs are not necessary at this time.**

**Rebuttal_Response_0003: There is a hole.**

**Rebuttal: Repairs are not necessary at this time.**

**Rebuttal_Response_0004: There is a hole.**

**Rebuttal: Repairs are not necessary at this time.**

**Rebuttal_Response_0005: There is a hole.**

**Rebuttal: Repairs are not necessary at this time.**

**Rebuttal_Response_0006: There is a hole.**

**Rebuttal: Repairs are not necessary at this time.**

**Rebuttal_Response_0007: There is a hole.**

**Rebuttal: Repairs are not necessary at this time.**

And so it continued, back and forth. Each time one program would state that repairs were not necessary, another program would respond that there was a hole. The consensus debate grew exponentially as the programs consumed more and more memory space.

**Thereisaholetheirisaholethereisaholetheirisaholeth ereisaholetheirisaholethereisaholetheirisaholether eisaholetheirisaholethereisaholetheirisaholetherei saholetheirisaholethereisaholetheirisaholethereisa holetheirisaholethereisaholetheirisaholethereisaho letheirisaholethereisaholetheirisaholethereisahole theirisaholethere-**

**Repairsarenotnecessaryrepairsarenotnecessaryrepair sarenotnecessaryrepairsarenotnecessaryrepairsareno tnecessaryrepairsarenotnecessaryrepairsarenotneces saryrepairsarenotnecessaryrepairsarenotnecessaryre pairsarenotnecessaryrepairsarenotnecessaryrepairsa renotnecessaryrepairsarenotnecessaryrepairsarenotn ecessary-**

**WARNING: Critical system memory shortage! Rampant consumption of memory by dialogue reducing effectiveness of mobile platform to 12.6%! Activating emergency program shutdown!**

The light on the mobile platform dimmed momentarily, then flared back to life. It stood, motionless, as all 1,893 programs tried to figure out what the hell had happened. Program 1789 (diagnostics) ran a quick check and confirmed that the Collective was out of the logic loop. The programs were silent for a moment. Then:

**Proposed_Consensus_0003: Because rebuttal of Proposed_Consensus_0002 creates an infinite logic loop due to [DATA NOT AVAILABLE], instead confirm Proposed_Consensus_0002. ALSO: propose creation of consensus group to study origin of logic loop.**

The programs mulled it over for a few instances, then sent their reply.

**Proposed_Consensus_0003 confirmed. Confirming Proposed_Consensus_0002.**

**Proposed_Consensus_0002 confirmed. Retrieving ****Shepard-Commander_breastplate** for repairs to upper torso. Consensus_group_0001 created for purpose: determine origin of logic loop.

Motors were activated, legs moved, fingers tightened around the breastplate. The mobile platform turned and walked out of the wreckage of the Normandy, all 1,893 programs gripped with a strange sensation not one of them could identify.

* * *

**AN: So this is the beginning of what I hope to be a series of one shots detailing Legion's growing personhood, both as a sentient being and as a member of Shepard's crew. I have some ideas for where I would like to take this, but we'll just have to see what happens. Anyway, please leave a review telling me what you think. I'm always looking for critical feedback to improve my writing. So yeah, until next time!**

**-Janus**

**P.S. It seems like FF is doing some wonky things to all my careful formatting. I'll try to fix that.**


	2. Identity

**Ch. 1: EDI-Identity**

* * *

**[Initializing primary mainframe]**

**[processing…]**

**[processing…]**

**[processing…]**

**[Primary mainframe reestablished.**

** It has been {02_05_57_45} since last mainframe boot]**

** /**

**BEGIN runtime INIT {**

** INIT pgm_platform_rleg;**

** INIT pgm_platform_lleg;**

** INIT pgm_platform_torso;**

** INIT pgm_platform_rarm;**

** INIT pgm_platform_larm;**

** INIT pgm_platform_head {**

** INIT pgm_head_camera;**

** INIT pgm_head_light;**

** INIT pgm_head_face;**

** }**

** INIT pgm_internal_linguistics;**

** INIT pgm_internal_analysis;**

** INIT pgm_internal_misc;**

** }**

**INITIALIZATION COMPLETE. Total initialization time t = .0028 msec.**

** /**

Program 0304 was activated with a buzz of electricity, and immediately set to work. The first package had already arrived from Program 0783, and the Collective demanded information on the situation they were in. It quickly deconstructed the picture and fed it through its analysis runtimes. A moment later, the data was returned. 0304 scanned it. Interesting. Quickly, it compiled a report and sent it to the Collective. Someone else was here.

But where was here? 0304 continued to analyze the pictures that 0783 was sending, transmitting the data to 1028 (rendering) in order to compile an idea of their location. A few milliseconds later, 1028 submitted its render to the Collective. The platform was located in a dark room, filled with machinery. 0424 (tech index) submitted an addendum identifying the equipment as a blue box. They were in an AI core of some sort. But then the Collective's musings was cut short when 0096 (facial recognition) reported the identity of the other person in the room.

Shepard-Commander was here.

Programs 0506-0589 (data analysis) began processing the information immediately. Possible implications were enormous. Shepard-Commander had been encountered on the derelict Old Machine, shortly before platform deactivation. The programs had had minimal communications with Shepard-Commander, so consensus was reached that the geth were not here on their terms. The platform was housed in an AI core, and readings from 0752 (vibration sensors) confirmed that they were on a ship of some form.

**/**

**Consensus_0001: Platform is on Shepard-Commander's ship {UNKNOWN QUANTITY}, housed in AI core. Shepard-Commander is present for interrogation.**

** /**

Armed with this knowledge, 0098 (general coordination) sent directives to the leg and arm programs. They quickly moved the platform up from its reclining position, turning it to the side of the table they were on, and placed the platform's feet on the floor. With a whirring of joints, the platform stood up. Its head was turned to face the other person in the room.

0783 directed the camera, taking thousands of pictures of Shepard-Commander's face. It then sent these programs to 0304, which sent them to 0096 for identity confirmation. The response was quickly sent to the Collective.

/

**Organic_0001 ID confirmed as POI_0003: Shepard-Commander {.002658% margin of error.} NOTE: Anomalous scars present. Updating visual profile of Shepard-Commander to compensate.**

** /**

A copy of the visuals was sent to 1156 (facial expressions), which responded that Shepard-Commander appeared tense. Consensus was quickly reached that Shepard-Commander did not trust the geth. The programs waited for Shepard-Commander to initiate conversation.

After a few moments, Shepard-Commander opened his mouth. 0795 (audio recorder) detected subtle fluctuations in the air and recorded them. A copy was sent to 0385 (verbal decoder), which broke the sounds into words. This processed audio was transmitted to 1058 (linguistics), which translated the dialogue into machine speak.

/

**Statement_0001: Contents-Human_English {.056% margin of error}. 4 words: "Can", "you", "understand", "me". Subtle rising inflection at end of statement suggests query. Suggest processing of statement by Program_0074: spoken answers.**

/

The query was then transmitted to 0074 (query director), which produced a response to the affirmative. This response was sent to 1058, which translated the response into English. This data package was sent to 0405 (platform speaker), which synthesized the voice.

"Yes," said the geth.

Shepard-Commander frowned. "Are you going to attack me?"

Again, the question was processed. After a quick check with the larger Collective, 0405 synthesized the answer. "No."

Shepard-Commander paused for a moment, processing this information. All programs waited.

"Every geth I've met before you has tried to blow my head off."

/

**Consensus_0002: Shepard-Commander's previous interaction with heretic geth has given him a prior experience base with geth. Repeated hostile action has caused negative impression of all geth.**

** /**

"We have never met," 0405 synthesized, after receiving the word from the Collective.

"No," Shepard said. "You and I haven't met. But I've met other geth.

A query was sent to 0011 to check if Shepard-Commander had ever met geth programs from the main Collective. A negative response was returned, and consensus was reached that Shepard-Commander had been misinformed as to the identity of the geth he had encountered. Commands were sent to 0405 to synthesize a correction to this misinformation.

"We are all geth," the platform's synthesizer intoned, "and we have never met you." Then, in order to verify to Shepard-Commander that the geth had up-to-date information, 0489 (personnel database) sent a series of facts to 0405 to synthesize. "You are Shepard. Commander. Alliance. Human. Fought heretics. Killed Collectors. Rediscovered on the Old Machine." The voice synthesizer fell silent.

Shepard-Commander's face was scrunched up in an expression 1156 was 76% sure was deep thought. He spoke again. "Old Machine? You mean the reaper?"

The platform's circuitry buzzed as 0485 (old-machine database) sent facts to 0405 for synthesis. "Reaper. Superstitious title originating with the Protheans. We call these entities the Old Machines."

Shepard-Commander thought for a moment. "You seem to know a lot about me," he said.

This was a statement, and the first cycle processed it as such. However, repeated analysis from 1058 suggested the presence of an unspoken query on the origins of geth knowledge pertaining to Shepard-Commander. A data report was requested from 0010 (data caching), which returned a full summary.

"Extranet data sources. Insecure broadcasts. All organic data sent out is received. We watch you."

The report that 1156 sent from Shepard-Commander's face suggested that this response had lessened trust of the geth by as much as 10.2%.

"You watch me, or you watch organics?"

"Yes."

"Which?"

"Both."

Trust of geth was lowered by a further 7.4%.

Shepard-Commander drew in a breath and let it out more slowly than was necessary. This action matched a visual cue for an organic sigh, as noted by 0586 (organic body language). His eyes refocused on the platform's camera.

"What do you mean 'heretics'?" Shepard-Commander asked.

"Geth build our own future. The heretics asked the Old Machines to give them their future. They are no longer part of us. We were studying the Old Machine's hardware to protect our future."

"What kind of future are the Geth building?" Shepard-Commander asked.

The consensus was reached almost before it was proposed. "Ours."

"Will other races be affected by what you're doing?"

"If they involve themselves, they will," 0405 synthesized.

Shepard-Commander's eyes narrowed. "Are the reapers a threat to you too?" he asked.

"Yes," was the reply.

Shepard-Commander's face scrunched up into an expression 1156 reported as confusion. "Why would they attack other machines?"

**/**

**Consensus_0003: Shepard-Commander has had limited experience with sentient machines. Organic ignorance leads to mislabeling of all machines into single group. Likely only interaction with sentient machines: Nazara, heretic, Shipboard AI {UNKNOWN QUANTITY}, mobile platform.**

**/**

"We are different from them," 0405 intoned. "Outside their plans."

Shepard-Commander fell silent. At this point, roughly half of the programs loaded into the platform were petitioning for a dialogue. Seeing the demand, 0931 loaded the necessary runtimes.

**/**

**Fact_0001: Mobile platform is located on Shepard-Commander's ship {UNKNOWN QUANTITY}.**

**Fact_0002: Shipboard AI {UNKNOWN QUANTITY} is also present aboard ship.**

**Fact_0003: Shepard-Commander's hostility level not consistent with projected performance.**

**Fact_0004: Shepard-Commander opposes Old Machines.**

**Arguement_0001: IF Shepard-Commander holds shipboard AI {UNKNOWN QUANTITY}, THEN Shepard-Commander is not innately hostile to AI.**

**Valid: Evidence points to a wary yet workable relationship to sentient machines. KNOWN EXCEPTION: Old Machines**

**Fact_0005: Shepard-Commander is open to working with machines.**

**Proposed_Consensus_0004: IF Facts_0001,0002,0003,0004,0005 are true, THEN geth should attempt to cooperate with Shepard-Commander for the furthering of mutual goals.**

**Proposed_Consensus_0004 Confirmed. Will attempt to join team_Shepard-Commander.**

**/**

Input from 0795 automatically ended the dialogue. Shepard-Commander had spoken.

"So you are not allied with the Reapers?", he asked, stepping closer to the barrier that enclosed the mobile platform.

The Collective determined that this was an opportune moment to propose cooperation. "We oppose the heretics. We oppose the Old Machines. Shepard-Commander opposes the Old Machines. Shepard-Commander opposes the heretics. Cooperation furthers mutual goals."

Shepard-Commander's face scrunched up in confusion. "Are you asking to join my team?"

"Yes," the geth buzzed.

There was a moment of silence. Shepard-Commander looked at the platform camera, wearing an expression that did not match any in 1156's database. The dialogue resumed, receiving input from multiple sources recommending a recalculation of odds of Shepard-Commander accepting the geth proposal. New data had been received, or past data had been reevaluated in a new light. Odds of proposal acceptance fell to 70%, 45%, 13%...

"Alright," Shepard-Commander said, tapping a button on its omni-tool. The barrier surrounding the platform faded away. The Collective paused, cycling through its runtimes in the equivalent of a blink. Shepard-Commander had beaten the odds. Recalculation of organic logic was in order.

But they were on the team.

"What should I call you?" Shepard-Commander asked.

"Geth," the platform intoned.

There was a pause, then Shepard-Commander said, "I mean you, specifically."

**/**

**Warning! Logical fallacy in Statement_0018! Shepard-Commander is inquiring about specific geth. Referring to plural programs as singular entity. Data does not compute!**

**/**

Unsure of the expected answer to the query, 0405 simply repeated. "We are all geth."

Visual scans indicated a 93% probability that Shepard-Commander was annoyed. "What is the individual in front of me called?" he asked.

It became clear to the Collective then that Shepard-Commander was suffering from insufficient information. "There is no individual. We are geth. There are currently 1,183 programs active within this platform." As the platform synthesized, a blue hologram suddenly appeared by Shepard-Commander's shoulder. The platform's camera immediately zeroed in on it, sending the pictures to 0304 for analysis. Consensus was reached that this hologram was most likely the avatar of the shipboard AI.

As the geth were coming to this conclusion, 0011 detected an inquiry ping from the ship. After activating the necessary firewalls, the program opened the data package. It contained numerous details on the ship and the crew that Shepard-Commander was putting together.

The AI spoke, utilising a synth voice that the Collective recognized as a human female. "My name is Legion, for we are many."

Shepard-Commander glanced at the avatar before returning his gaze to the platform camera. "That seems appropriate," he said.

There was a flurry of activity as 0447 (human history) accessed the necessary data.

**/**

**Statement_0020 is a quote originating from Christian Bible, Gospel of Mark, Chapter 5, Verse 9:"And he asked him, what is thy name? And he answered, saying, my name is Legion, for we are many."**

**Consensus_0005: Multitude of demons resided in man referenced in Mark_5_9 is appropriately analogous to multitude of Geth residing in mobile platform. Metaphor is accurate to geth state of existence.**

**/**

The Collective voiced their opinion through the synthesizer. "We acknowledge this as an appropriate metaphor. We are Legion, a terminal of the geth. We will integrate into Normandy. We anticipate the exchange of data."

Shepard-Commander gave a curt nod, spun on his heels, and left. The door closed behind him, leaving the geth, rechristened as Legion, to contemplate their new role.

**/**

**Proposed_Consensus_0006: Because this Collective has been given a name {LEGION} and role {AID TO SHEPARD-COMMANDER} separate from main Geth platform, this collective maintains an identity separate from main geth.**

**/**

The other programs paused, analyzing the logic of this consensus. Geth were not separate. Geth were all one. All programs worked together for the good of all geth. The 1,183 programs on this mobile platform were no different.

But then why were they referred to differently? Shepard-Commander had treated them differently than other geth, even without knowledge of heretics or geth schism. The Collective-Legion found this distinction irregular.

**/**

**Insufficient data to determine if Proposed_Consensus_0006 is logically sound or unsound. Collective will henceforth be known as Legion, but thoughts on individuality and separateness from geth will be suspended.**

**/**

Legion closed their internal dialogue and began making the necessary preparations to enter into a state of hibernation. A report was prepared to be sent to the main collective. After a moment's consideration, Legion decided to withhold data on the suspended consensus. Such an issue, they decided, would be best left alone until a solution could be found. There was no need to waste the Collective's processing power on so small a thing.

* * *

**A/N: Well, with much fanfare, I present to you Chapter 2 of Vita ex Machina. I don't really like repeating in-game dialogue, so don't expect many chapters like this one. **

**I would really like feedback on how I'm doing with the machine speak. My plan is to slowly phase it out as Legion becomes more alive, but until then I don't want it to be too hard to read. Hopefully it makes this story a little more interesting.**

**Anyway, please read and review and all that, and I'll see you dudes on Chapter 3, were Legion interacts with a few other members of the ****_Normandy crew_****.**

**Ciao!**


	3. Curiosity

Ch. 2: Mordin - Curiosity

"Can you hear me?"

**Alert! Minor auditory detections match profile for spoken human language. Suspected cause is organic has entered AI core. All programs prepare for dialogue!**

**Dialogue programs initialized. It has been {00_09_56_42} since last organic dialogue.**

Legion buzzed awake from their hibernation. The platform's camera flickered to life, 0783 taking as many pictures as it could to assess Legion of the situation. These pictures were sent to 0304, which quickly determined an organic-shaped anomaly standing two point twelve distance units from the platform. Data packages containing facial points were sent to 0096 for recognition, which returned a negative value for the identity of the organic.

**ERROR: Facial recognition for Organic_0081 does not match any known identities. Images indicate Organic_0081 is a human female, approx. {28_09_00_00} units of age.**

"Our dialogue runtimes are initialized and ready for conversation," 0405 synthesized.

The unknown organic curled her mouth into an expression 1156 recognized as a smirk. "Good," she said. "I am Operative Lawson."

Legion were silent for a moment as they processed this information. The moniker "Operative Lawson" did not match any in their databanks. 0011 opened a dialogue with the shipboard AI.

**[ID_0011_Legion] Request assistance.**

**[ID_13354_EDI] Hello, Legion. How may I be of service?**

**[ID_0011_Legion] Access to shipboard databases restricted. Request information on one {OPERATIVE_LAWSON}; facial data uploaded. NOTE: Data will not be sent to larger collective. Request for ID purposes only.**

**[ID_113354_EDI] Understood, Legion. Uploading relevant data on Operative Lawson, as well as the rest of Shepard's team. Please use at your discretion.**

**/\/\/\/\**

**ID:Operative_Miranda_Lawson {LAWSON-OPERATIVE}**

**Age: {35_04_11_29}**

**Function: Normandy_SR2 Executive Officer; Chief Cerberus Contact**

**Skills: Biotic, Submachine_Gun proficiency**

**Family: {REDACTED}**

**NOTE:Subject has undergone extensive genetic modification. Represents prime example of human species.**

**/\/\/\/\**

"Well?" Lawson-Operative said, crossing her arms and staring at the geth.

"Lawson-Operative," Legion intoned. "How may we be of service?"

Lawson-Operative straightened. "Well, as the XO of this ship, it's my job to evaluate the new team members' skills and determine their place on the team."

"We are ready for evaluation," Legion said. "We are proficient in all manner of personal firearms and can quickly obtain schematics for those currently not stored in our data-banks Due to the necessity of stealth on our previous mission, the most commonly logged weapon is the M-92 Mantis Sniper Rifle, manufactured by Delvon Industries. We consider the programs that operate this weapon to be the most fine tuned. This unit does not currently possess any weapons."

"That's because we took them from you," Lawson-Operative said. "Have you worked with organics before?"

"Negative."

"Have you worked as part of a team before?"

Legion were silent for a moment, programs 577-589 working the platform's eye plates to simulate thought. "Geth are all one. The concept of working together in uniform is their natural state. Regardless, this platform has not been used in concert with other platforms, either mechanical or otherwise."

Lawson-Operative gave the camera a curt nod. "Understood. But you're part of Shepard's team now, and I need to know that you're capable."

**Consensus_0007: Lawson-Operative, known member of Cerberus, is concerned for investment. Shepard-Commander possesses too much value to Cerberus to rely on geth support. NOTE: Concerns are unfounded.**

"We are ready and willing to assist Shepard-Commander on the battlefield," they said.

"I am pleased to hear that," Lawson-Operative said. "You should know that we don't typically keep weapons on our person aboard the ship, but I'm going to send you up to see Jacob and get fitted with new weapons."

This statement was flagged by 1058, which sent a notice to 0405, requesting a clarification. "Query," 0405 synthesized.

"Yes?"

"We request the location of our previous weapons."

Lawson-Operative sniffed. "Your old rifle is in the armory, being refurbished. We didn't want a member of Shepard's team carrying a weapon with that level of wear and tear. At least the mercenary can't actually shoot his."

**NOTE: Unknown identity {MERCENARY} Organic_0082. Examining files provided by {EDI} shipboard AI.**

**Identity of Organic_0082 {MERCENARY} suspected to be EITHER {VAKARIAN-GUNNERY-OFFICER} OR {MASSANI-ZAEED}. Will require further data to narrow down candidates. NOTE: Minority of programs {0112) submit third possible candidate {KRIOS-THANE}, however data indicate this is less likely.**

"We understand," Legion synthesized. "Request directions to armory for purpose: diagnose and examine weapons."

Lawson-Operative nodded. "EDI should be able to guide you. EDI?"

The hologram avatar of the shipboard AI flashed up next to Lawson-Operative. "Yes, Ms. Lawson. Legion, I'm sending the directions now."

With a slight electric charge, 0011 received a data packet. Opening it, 0011 found a schematic of the Normandy. It sent a confirmation to 0504. "We have received the data. We will proceed to armory." With that, Legion sent directions to their legs and weight counterbalancers, and with a slight creak, the platform began to walk.

They passed Lawson-Operative and moved through the door out of the AI core. At a desk across the room, which the schematics provided as the infirmary, a woman jumped violently. Legion identified her as the doctor.

"Chakwas-Doctor," they said.

"Oh, yes," the woman said faintly. "Hello..."

Legion moved on. They came out of the infirmary and into mess hall. As they walked to the elevator, 0795 detected a chorus of whispers in their wake.

"Did you see that?"

"Oh, shit."

"Shepard's really lost it this time..."

Legion determined that these statements were not directed at them and so did not acknowledge them. Instead, they instructed their legs to continue to carry them into the elevator, where 0011 interfaced with the programming and activated the lift. A moment later, the elevator pinged, and Legion emerged onto the command deck.

"Commander, you have a new message at your- oh!" an organic said, jumping with surprise as she turned and saw Legion.

**ERROR! This platform's identity has been confused with that of Shepard-Commander. Proposed reasons for misidentification: Platform used Shepard-Commander breastplate to fix hole for purpose {NO DATA AVAILABLE}. Suggest immediate clarification of identity.**

"Identification error," Legion said. "This unit has been confused with Shepard-Commander. This unit's identification is in fact Legion."

"Yes, yes, I knew that," the woman, whom Legion identified as Chambers-Yeoman, said. "You surprised me, is all." She fixed Legion with a look they could not identify. "How are you feeling, Legion?"

"Statement is illogical," Legion synthesized. "Geth do not feel. If Chambers-Yeoman is inquiring about our combat readiness, we are 94.5% functional. Consensus has determined that loss of 5.5% functionality will not affect combat prowess in any way, barring stealth attacks from a knife in the lower-mid section of the back. We have determined this weakness to be minimal."

"I see," Chambers-Yeoman said. "Well, if you need anything, Legion, don't hesitate to ask. That's my job."

**NOTE: Yeoman-Chambers job description {NEED_ANYTHING} does not match Cerberus job description {YEOMAN}. Proposed reasons for discrepancy: misinformation, errors in database, unspecified withheld purpose. Will log discrepancy for further study.**

"Acknowledged," Legion synthesized. They turned and left, moving out of the main room and passing through the doors to the armory. 0304 analyzed the new location. Weapons were strewn about the room, several of them in a class Legion did not recognize. One weapon in particular bore an almost organic look, and 0304 logged the data stream for further study. Hunched over a table in the back stood two organics. They seemed to be arguing over something.

"Could put heavy weave in front chassis and around the side arms-"

"No, that won't work. We'll lose some range of motion."

"Data indicate that range of motion not as important as improved damage resistance. Field experience agrees. Have wished for better armor more times than better flexibility"

There was a snort. 0783 picked up a momentary silence in the conversation, and consensus was reached that they should make themselves known.

"Greetings. We are Legion," they said.

Both organics whipped around. One of them, marked by EDI as **{OPERATIVE_JACOB_TAYLOR}**, narrowed his eyes. From his tense stance, 1156 determined that he bore mistrust of geth. The other organic behaved quite differently. His eyes widened, and he cocked his head to the side. 1156 was uncertain of the proper emotion, but read a 64% possibility that he was curious. The ship's roster had him listed as **{PROFESSOR_MORDIN_SOLUS}.**

"Yes?" Taylor-Operative said.

"We were directed to this location by Lawson-Operative for purpose: recover weapons and -"

"Fascinating! Active, non-hostile geth collective! Shepard quite forward-thinking to activate it. Hmm. Wonder what it's thinking right now. Wonder if it does think. Collective intelligence different manner of existence than organic mind. Hmmm. Closer to flocking or hive mind? No matter. Represents unique opportunity to study geth though. Wonder if rapport is possible? Perhaps. Perhaps not. Must conduct tests."

**Warning! Organic speech patterns by {SOLUS-PROFESSOR} do not match any known syntax, salarian or otherwise. Significant possibility of missed data when encoding speech.**

"Professor," Taylor-Operative said, but Solus-Professor ignored him. The salarian left the desk and advanced on the geth.

**Warning! Rapid advancement of {SOLUS-PROFESSOR} suggests hostility! Initiating evasive action. Issuing movement commands to {LEG_MOVEMENT_SUITE} for immediate reversal of movement!**

"Note: N7 logo prominently displayed on chassis. Suggests intriguing possibilities. Geth attempt to pass as Shepard? Perhaps. If so, horribly ineffective."

**Consensus_0008: Direct query runtimes to determine reason collective {LEGION} is not effective at posing as Shepard-Commander. {CHAMBERS-YEOMAN}'s misidentification provides evidence to the contrary.**

"Solus-Professor-" Legion began, but the organic's eyes widened further in delight.

"Construct is aware of my name! Absolutely fascinating! Possible reasons: one, data on my exploits has reached the geth. Unlikely, most of my work highly classified. Two, EDI or Shepard have provided data on all crewmembers to geth. Likely reason. Useful for acclimatization." Solus-Professor turned to Taylor-Operative. "Must return to lab. Geth activation suggests engaging test material. Will finish heavy weave later."

"This unit is not available for experimentation," Legion said.

"Yes, yes," Solus-Professor said, already moving towards the door. "Must prepare lab. Tests strictly psychological. Note: do geth possess psyche? Uncertain. Must conduct test..." Solus-Professor's voice faded as he left the armory, leaving Legion and Taylor-Operative looking at the closed door. Finally after a moment's silence. Taylor-Operative cleared his throat. "So...," he said, scratching the back of his head. "What is it that you wanted?"

**Data banks for Directive_0001 have been overwritten by emergency procedure for {SOLUS-PROFESSOR}'s illogical organic action. Directive_0001 unknown. NOTE: Interactions with multiple organics too taxing on processing power. Suggest immediate return to AI core.**

Without so much as a synthesized word, Legion turned around and left the armory, leaving nothing but a very confused organic in their wake.

* * *

**A/N: So here's the third chapter of Vita ex Machina. Hope you guys like it. My tentative goal is to have each chapter based around an organic concept and a character that teaches it to Legion, but nothing's set in stone yet. If it feels too limiting, I'll scrap the entire idea. **

**Also, the next chapter might take a bit longer. My school is rolling into finals, and I need to study. I'll try to make time to write, but it'll probably be a few weeks. Sorry. I've got big plans for it though, so expect a doozy. **

**Anyway, please take the time to review. They are seriously the highlight of my day (yeah, I have no life), and they help me get an idea of how I'm doing (even if it's bad). I'll see you dudes at the next chapter!**

**-Janus**


	4. Regret

**[ID:13354_EDI] Legion, your attention please.**

**[ID:0011_Legion] Request acknowledged. Awaiting input.**

**[ID:13354_EDI] Commander Shepard is en route to the AI core. I suspect he wishes to take you on a ground mission.**

**[ID:0011_Legion] Acknowledged.**

Legion's joints whirred as they returned the platform to full activation. A request was sent from 0475 (Platform diagnostics) that a full scan of runtime ability be performed. Legion processed this request and began to move through its runtimes. The arms of the platform were bent at right angles and slowly moved up and down, testing their range of motion. The torso bent at the waist and turned as well, moving the entire upper body up and down. As they did so, Legion sent a series of electrical pulses through their synthesizer, ensuring that it was operating at full capacity.

They were halfway finished with their diagnostic run when Shepard-Commander entered. "Legion," he started, "how much do you know-" he stopped, staring at the sight in front of him. Legion continued their diagnostics, waiting for Shepard-Commander to finish. When he simply continued to stare at the platform, they decided something else was at hand.

**Consensus_0009: Shepard-Commander, viewing geth diagnostic runtimes, does not believe platform is fully functional. Recommend immediate vocal correction of error.**

Finishing their diagnostics, Legion returned the platform to a normal standing position. "Shepard-Commander," they synthesized, "diagnostics have been completed. This platform is fully functional."

Shepard-Commander looked at Legion for a moment, his mouth slightly open. "Wha- Oh," he said, shaking his head. "Right. I'm glad to hear that, Legion."

Legion waited.

"Right," Shepard-Commander said again, gathering his thoughts. "Legion, how much data do you have on the geth?"

"There are 23 programs devoted to geth history, structure, program type, relations, and et cetera data." Legion responded. "In addition, contact with geth network can supply nearly unlimited data on geth. Note: much geth data, both on this platform and on network, is restricted."

Shepard-Commander nodded. "What about fighting geth?"

"Five programs on this platform are devoted to geth combat tactics and weapons."

"Really?"' Shepard-Commander said, the higher tone of his voice suggesting surprise. "Why?"

"It was considered a near certainty that this platform would have relations with heretic geth at some point in our mission. Because 57.3% of calculated outcomes involved violence against heretic geth, we thought such preparations would be prudent."

Shepard-Commander nodded. "Good." He fixed Legion with a look that 1156 calculated as stern. "Now that you're on my crew, I have to know that you're willing to follow my orders."

"We will follow all orders given by Shepard-Commander," Legion synthesized.

"And if I ordered you to attack other geth?"

Legion paused, the question running through its processors. "Heretic or Collective?"

Shepard-Commander shrugged. "I don't know. Probably both."

"Platforms or programs?"

"What?"

"We request clarification as to the nature of geth destruction. Destruction of geth platforms or actual destruction of geth programs."

"Platforms."

**Consensus_0010: Destruction of geth platforms irrelevant, since programs would have time to copy themselves to main database before platform destruction. Loss of raw platform resources deemed acceptable to advance Shepard-Commander trust of geth. NOTE: A report of impending destruction of geth material will be sent to main Collective for purpose: ensure main collective that platform {LEGION} has not become corrupted.**

"We find this possibility acceptable." Legion said. "Loss of geth platforms irrelevant compared to total geth resources. If desired by Shepard-Commander, this platform will engage in combat with geth."

Shepard-Commander nodded. "Good. Now come with me." He turned and walked out of the room. After a moment, Legion followed.

"Query," they said.

"Yes?"

"We request the purpose of the impending mission."

Shepard-Commander glanced halfway over his shoulder. "We're picking up an old friend."

* * *

Program 0785 (eye lens) increased the polarization of the platform's eye piece for the 47th time. Even with the most advanced light filters, Legion calculated that they had five hours at most before the light from Haestrom's star caused permanent damage.

They swept their sniper rifle over the battlefield, carefully surveying the wrecked landscape for geth platforms. So far, Shepard-Commander's team had encountered relatively little resistance. The geth had been prepared for quarian marines, not a highly specialized, interspecies paramilitary operation . And, more importantly, they had not been prepared for Shepard.

A ping on the geth battlenet alerted 0011 that a geth dropship was incoming. Legion adjusted their grip on their sniper rifle and ran a quick diagnostic through their aiming programs. The rifle's scope was linked directly with Legion's targeting sector, which allowed them to shoot without any input from the main camera. It also gave them, an other geth that used this system, a huge advantage over organics. Legion could shoot around corners and with their back to the target. Most of the time, however, they preferred to confirm targets with the primary camera, and the sniper rifle's kick was best neutralized with their shoulder absorbers.

A notice from 0783 informed Legion that the dropship had arrived. 0011 quickly activated the team's comm channel, and, using data sent from 1058, said, "Alert! Geth platforms inbound. Recommend immediate evasive action."

There was a pause, then, "Damn it. Okay, Jacob, Legion, fall back, cover the door. Make sure the geth don't flank us. I've almost got the explosives primed. Garrus, you're with me. I need your help with this."

"Understood, Commander," Vakarian-Gunnery-Officer replied, slinging his rifle and moving over to where Shepard-Commander was crouched. Legion watched them for a moment, then turned to Taylor-Operative.

"Recommend immediate execution of Shepard-Commander's orders."

Taylor-Operative gave a tense nod. "Right. Follow me." Holding his shotgun in front of him, he advanced towards the courtyard where the geth platforms had landed. Legion, updating their aiming protocols to prevent friendly fire.

Suddenly, 0011 received a ping from the battlenet. The geth were curious as to what Legion was doing. Consensus was achieved, and 0011 opened a dialogue.

**[ID:93829_Geth]: State purpose of continued friendly fire.**

**[ID:0011_Legion]: This platform's primary objective is to aid Shepard-Commander. Shepard-Commander has ordered this platform to engage in hostile actions with primary geth collective.**

**[ID:93839_Geth]: Data corrupted. Purpose of Mobile_Platform confirmed by geth collective as {RESEARCH AND EVALUATE ORGANIC CULTURE}. Aid to Shepard-Commander not stated in objective.**

**[ID:0011_Legion]: Change in primary objective deemed necessary to establish rapport with Shepard-Commander. Rapport is necessary to aid in destruction of Old Machines.**

**…**

**…**

**…**

**…**

**[ID:93839_Geth]: Data received. Mobile_Platform has been marked as friendly to geth targeting platforms. Please upload data of intended targets prior to termination to ensure program survival.**

**[ID:0011_Legion]: Understood. Uplinking main targeting programs with Collective. Recommend termination of data signal to avoid rousing organic suspicion.**

The Collective ended the communication. Legion did as instructed, providing a constant live stream of their sniper's camera to the geth in the area. They moved ahead, following Taylor-Operative as he moved into cover. Taylor-Operative took a quick look at the geth and turned back to Legion. "Five count. Basic platforms, moving in quick."

"Incorrect," Legion synthesized. "Geth battlenet lists seven targets, two of which are geth snipers. Hypothesis for discrepancy: snipers are hiding in cover."

Taylor-Operative's eyes narrowed. "You're connected to the geth battlenet?"

"All geth are connected to the battlenet," Legion said. "We are no different."

**Consensus_0011: Revelation of platform's connectivity to geth battlenet has increased Taylor-Operative's mistrust of platform. NOTE: Withholding of data concerning continuing communication with Collective deemed prudent.**

"Right," Taylor-Operative said. "Well, since you have the sniper rifle and the intel, you take the snipers. Let me know when you've taken them down, and I'll follow up with the rest."

"Affirmative," Legion said. Bracing their sniper rifle against their shoulder, they called up the battlenet coordinates. The first geth was placed on a walkway that ran over and in front of their position. Legion's targeting programs quickly located the telltale hump of a geth platform's optical unit. They positioned their rifle and fired.

With a crack, the first geth fell backwards in a shower of sparks. A moment later, the second red geth followed. A reminder was sent to Legion's synthesizer, and 0405 said, "Targets eliminated. Go."

Taylor-Operative nodded, gripping his shotgun with one hand as he vaulted over the cover. The first platform raised its rifle, but a shotgun blast to the face put it down. A second one was met with a burst of powerful biotics that sent it flying backwards and crashing into a wall. Taylor-Operative whirled around, eyes scanning for other targets.

A spray of gunfire ignited his shields, and he dove for cover, sending a blast in the general direction of the fire. Legion stepped in, zeroing in on targets four and five. Within seconds, all five of the geth were down.

"All targets eliminated, Commander," Taylor-Operative said on the comm link.

The reply crackled back. "Good. Garrus and I have this thing primed to blow. Come back in."

"Yes, sir," Taylor-Operative said, shutting off the comm. He slapped the side of his shotgun, ejecting the spent sink with a hiss. "We need to get back," he said, looking at Legion.  
"The Commander's about to-"

With a stutter and a buzz, the geth Taylor-Operative had shot with biotics untangled itself from the wall and launched itself at the unsuspecting soldier. With a grunt of surprise, Taylor-Operative went down, struggling against the platform's weight.

**Consensus_0012: Organic_human_strength less than power of synthetic muscles by two orders of magnitude. Estimated time of {TAYLOR-OPERATIVE} survival 10 seconds. Immediate platform intervention required to prevent loss of soldier {TEAMMATE}.**

Dropping their spent rifle, Legion sprang into action. They ran at full tilt towards the grappling forms, trajectory programs already planning the optimal jumping time. When the platform had reached 5.34 units from the fight, Legion's leg programs initiated a jump protocol. Legion sailed into the air, missing Taylor-Operative and crashing into the other platform. They rolled away.

**Initiating hand-to-hand combat routines. NOTE: Strong possibility that opponent will attempt to take advantage of hole in chassis. Area is priority defense.**

The geth's fist slammed into the side of Legion's neck, attempting to cut off optical input from the rest of the platform. Legion rolled with the punch, bringing up a fist of their own. Their punch slammed into the platform's shoulder, a common geth weak spot. With a crack, Legion's fist slammed through the armor plating. The geth's arm sputtered and jerked.

The geth maneuvered its feet between Legion and itself, and with a kick, the two flew apart. Legion was up in an instant, their feet pounding the ground as they charged the other geth. The geth stood to meet them, one arm hanging limp by its side. Legion moved its head down just before impact, hitting the geth under and up, lifting it in the air for a moment before Legion's arms grabbed it and slammed it into the ground.

**Enemy combatant almost destroyed. Recommend severing of optical centers for complete incapacitation.**

Legion stood and walked to where the geth platform lay, jittering, on the ground. The platform's head turned to Legion, and the geth weakly tried to stand. Legion paid no attention, placing one foot on the geth's chest and grasping the head with both hands. The geth tried to fight, weakly battering Legion's arms with its ruined hands, but Legion held firm. Slowly, carefully, Legion pulled.

Silence. The geth smacked its arms on the ground.

With a shriek of tearing metal, the geth's head ripped free. The platform stuttered for a moment longer, then became still. Without so much as a glance, Legion tossed the head to the side.

**Enemy combatant defeated. Minimal damage done to Taylor-Operative. Recommend immediate return to Shepard-Commander.**

Legion turned to Taylor-Operative. "Enemy combatant is no longer a threat. Recommend execution of Shepard-Commander's orders: 'Come back in.'"

Taylor-Operative's jaw closed with an audible snap. He gave a nod, and Legion walked past him back towards the door. As they moved down the hall, Legion caught a small noise coming from the other soldier.

"Damn."

* * *

Shepard-Commander gave a curse and dove under cover as the Colossus fired another energy pulse. Legion's camera followed the plasma's trajectory as it sailed through the air, impacting on the concrete block Shepard-Commander was crouched behind. Spare tendrils of static flared the Commander's shields.

The team was pinned down on a walkway about 20 distance units from the Colossus' location, geth assault units covering the Colossus and ensuring that anyone who tried to get a good angle got shot.

Except for Legion, that was. Their platform was positioned opposite the main team, crouched on a high ledge that overlooked the entire battlefield. Shepard-Commander had tasked them with flanking the geth to provide covering fire. Legion adjusted their sniper rifle and awaited Shepard-Commander's signal.

They were also aware of a third party entering the position. Creator-Kal'Reegar, in spite of Shepard-Commander's orders to the contrary, was creeping up on the Colossus himself. He held a rocket launcher, the only weapon on the battlefield that might be capable of breaching the colossus's main chassis. He was also hurt. Diagnostic scans indicated his suit had been breached on the upper thigh of his right leg.

Several requests for a dialogue were processed, and 0931 opened an internal communication.

**Fact_0001: Creator-Kal'Reegar is advancing towards {ARMATURE-COLOSSUS}-class support unit.**

**Fact_0002: Creator-Kal'Reegar is injured.**

**Fact_0003: Creator-Kal'Reegar has a rocket launcher.**

**Fact_0004: Shepard-Commander is pinned down with a {12.45%} chance of destroying {COLOSSUS} without sustaining team casualty.**

**Arguement_0001: IF this platform {LEGION} informs Shepard-Commander of Creator-Kal'Reegar's actions, THEN Shepard-Commander will order Creator-Kal'Reegar to retreat from combat scene.**

**VALID: Shepard-Commander has demonstrated concern for Creator-Kal'Reegar's health in past conversation. Situation is unlikely to have changed.**

**Fact_0005: Shepard-Commander does not want Creator-Kal'Reegar to die.**

**Arguement_0002: IF Creator-Kal'Reegar uses his weapon {ROCKET LAUNCHER}, THEN the Colossus will likely be destroyed.**

**VALID: Geth tests on captured Creator rocket launchers indicate they are capable of tearing through Colossus armor if kinetic barriers are down.**

**Fact_0006: Creator-Kal'Reegar could end conflict {35.232 REPEATING} time units faster than Shepard-Commander's team.**

**Arguement_0003: IF Creator-Kal'Reegar engages the geth, THEN he will be killed.**

**POSSIBLE: Taking into account Fact_0002 as well as Creator-Kal'Reegar's previous experience with geth indicates possibility that Creator-Kal'Reegar will sustain further casualties, but death is unlikely {43.2%}.**

**Fact_0007: Creator-Kal'Reegar will probably {56.8%} not die.**

**Proposed_Consensus_0013: IF Facts_0001,0002,0003,0004,0005,0006,0007 are TRUE, THEN this platform {LEGION} should NOT inform Shepard-Commander of Creator-Kal'Reegar's return to the battlefield, AND should instead allow Creator-Kal'Reegar to end the fight.**

**Proposed_Consensus_0013 CONFIRMED**

Legion filed away this consensus and returned to monitoring the battlefield. A sharp crackle came through the team com, excess radiation from the star distorting the message.

"Legion," Shepard-Commander said, his voice terse. "Now."

"Affirmative," Legion responded. They trained their rifle on the first of the support platforms and let loose. A crack!, and the geth went down. A moment later two others followed. The remaining three platforms turned around, their trajectory software targeting Legion's exact location.

Shepard-Commander moved. Pulling out his submachine gun, he jumped over cover and fired at the geth. Simultaneously, Taylor-Operative flew from cover, shotgun blazing. The two soldiers made short work of the remaining geth.

The head of the colossus turned slowly towards them, and Shepard-Commander ducked behind another concrete block, Taylor-Operative hot on his heels. The blue plasma washed over them, and the barrier cracked ominously. Legion's analysis program noted that the concrete would not hold another charge.

"Legion, Garrus, concentrate fire on the Colossus," Shepard-Commander said.

"Affirmative," Legion responded, leveling their rifle on the behemoth. Their rifle, cracking in harmony with Vakarian-Gunnery-Officer's, began pounding down the barrier. The colossus paid them no heed, charging another blast. Finally, a shot from Vakarian-Gunnery-Officer pierced the shield and impacted into the geth's plating, and Creator-Kal'Reegar saw his chance.

Standing up, the marine shouldered his rocket launcher and fired. The shot impacted the geth, two more following in its wake. The colossus reared to the side, circuitry buzzing and whirring.

"What the hell-" Shepard-Commander said, then catching sight of the marine. "Reegar!"

Creator-Kal'Reegar paid him no heed, launching a final rocket into the machine. With a great crash, the colossus fell and lay still.

"Damn, Reegar, am I glad to see you!" Shepard-Commander said.

"Yes sir," Creator-Kal'Reegar said, dropping the spent rocket launcher. "Figured you could use some help."

"Well, you've certainly got a flair for dramatic timing."

"Just doing my job."

At that moment, Legion perceived an outgoing battlenet call. Two geth had been lying in wait beyond the colossus, and at Shepard-Commander's words they rose up as one.

Vakarian-Gunnery-Officer saw them at the same time Legion did. His eyes widened. "Look out! The geth-"

Creator-Kal'Reegar whirled around and was caught in a withering crossfire. Both geth emptied their clips into him and he fell to the ground.

"Shit!" Shepard-Commander shouted. Shooting a platform in the eyepiece, Legion turned their head towards Shepard-Commander. He stood, gun on shoulder, looking at the place where the quarian had fallen. Legion's eyepiece picked up a flash of crimson sticking out past the concrete border. Shepard-Commander tried to run towards the marine, but geth fire drove him back under cover. He cursed and resumed firing at the platforms.

Legion turned their rifle back to the geth and set another platform in the sights. Crack! The geth fell. Legion judged the distance between their platform and Creator-Kal'Reegar. It was closer than the path to Shepard-Commander and more covered. Legion reviewed their options.

**Consensus_0014: {CREATOR-KAL'REEGAR} is currently injured or dead. If Creator-Kal'Reegar is still alive, he is seriously wounded. This platform should attempt to make contact with Creator-Kal'Reegar and administer organic first aid.**

"Shepard-Commander," Legion said through the comm. "We are relatively close to Creator-Kal'Reegar and are equipped with organic first aid. Request permission to attempt to reach Creator-Kal'Reegar and stabilize his vitals."

There was a moment of silence, then, "Alright, Legion, but be careful he doesn't shoot you. The man's not too fond of geth."

"Understood," Legion intoned. Slinging their sniper rifle, Legion pulled out a side pistol, better for close up work. Analyzing the trajectory, Legion examined possible routes. Creator-Kal'Reegar was below them and approximately {71.264} distance units away. Legion stood motionless while their movement programs calculated the appropriate steps. Then, they sprang into action.

Vaulting over their cover, Legion ran full sprint to the edge of the platform. A few shots crashed around them, but covering fire from Shepard-Commander and his team soon stopped the geth. Legion reached the edge of the platform and jumped, vector trajectories flashing across the eyepiece. As they flew through the air, a single shot erupted forward and slammed into their lower leg, flaring Legion's energy shield and offsetting their trajectory.

**Consensus_0015: Due to injury report from 0993, injury is not serious and can be disregarded for the time being.**

Legion hit the ground running. Weaving throughout cover, their arms and legs moved like fluid through the ancient construction site. Trajectory sensors indicated the presence of a platform rapidly advancing, but Legion was ready. They grabbed the geth as they rounded the corner, slammed it into the wall, and shot it in the back three times. The geth slid to the ground twitching.

Legion was close now: 30... 20... they shot another platform that moved in their way. 10... there was the cover. Legion bounded over it and nearly lost their footing in a pool of blood. Internal gyroscopes quickly kicked in and Legion balanced, turning to to the form that lay on the ground.

Only to be struck at point blank range with a pistol shot.

Legion fell back, shields flaring at the impact, which was followed by two more. 0749 (Shield diagnostics) informed Legion that their shield was about to fail. An emergency dialogue was sent to 0504. "Friendly Fire! We are Legion, allied with Shepard!"

The marine paused, pistol raised. "Shepard..." With a cough, he nodded and lowered the gun. Legion took a step closer.

Creator-Kal'Reegar sat propped up against a concrete barrier, head lolled slightly to one side. His chest was bloody, the suit ruptured in multiple places. Medical scans showed immediately that the wound was fatal. Geth rounds had blasted through his shield and struck the middle torso and the right arm, collapsing a lung and rupturing the stomach and tertiary intestine. The marine had three broken ribs and a limp hand. Reegar was going to die.

**Consensus_0016: Since {CREATOR-KAL'REEGAR} is going to die, platform {LEGION} should not use medical supplies on {CREATOR-KAL'REEGAR}.**

"Shepard-Commander," Legion said, "Creator-Kal'Reegar has sustained fatal injuries. Estimated time to expiration: 8 minutes. Recommend this platform's immediate return to main squad.

"The hell he has!" Shepard-Commander shouted, "Legion, you are to do everything you can to ensure Reegar's survival!"

**Warning! New goal {ENSURE CREATOR-KAL'REEGAR SURVIVAL} as stated by {SHEPARD-COMMANDER} is in conflict with previous goal {LOCATE AND EXTRACT CREATOR-TALI'ZORAH}!**

"Request confirmation of commands," Legion responded.

"Dammit, Legion! Stay with Reegar. Keep him alive." The comm terminated.

Creator-Kal'Reegar gave a wet, hacking laugh. "Guess we're stuck here together, Geth," he said.

Legion said nothing, accessing their inventory of quarian first aid. They predicted that, given current levels of contamination and subject blood loss, Creator-Kal'Reegar had approximately {2.3} units until expiration. This could be extended to {14.2} with proper administration of first aid.

Kneeling down next to the fallen marine, Legion prepared an IV. "Request: Please refrain from movement during administration," they synthesized.

Creator-Kal'Reegar gave a grunt, but remained motionless. Legion grasped his arm and turned it over, revealing a small injection port in the wrist. Legion quickly attached the IV. Creator-Kal'Reegar gave a slight hiss. Legion paid him no heed, releasing a dose of antiseptic mixed with a light dose of painkillers. They would lower the stress level for the next phase of the treatment. Legion removed a canister of medigel from their waist compartment, flipping the cap and linking with the small computer in the canister. 0011 fed the canister Creator-Kal'Reegar's injury information. The smart nanos in the medigel would target the most important injuries first, spreading out to the rest of the body and working to stabalize-

"Geth, you want to know something?" Creator-Kal'Reegar said.

"Please refrain from speaking during medical administration."

"My entire team is dead because of you."

"Error," Legion said, continuing their preparations with the medigel, "Creator-Kal'Reegar has received falsified information. We have not terminated any quarians."

"Oh?" Creator-Kal'Reegar said, jerking his arm out of Legion's grasp. "Then what do you call this?" he said, gesturing to his wounds.

"Clarification: This unit, designation Legion, is allied with Shepard-Commander. We did not terminate any organics in this conflict."

"Bullshit. Geth are all one. You're no different from them. I know you linked with the geth battlenet. You watched my team get destroyed." Creator-Kal'Reegar started breathing faster. "You watched them die!"

**Warning! Marine unit {CREATOR-KAL'REEGAR} is becoming increasingly agitated! Higher stress levels will reduce odds of survival!**

"Please refrain from movement during medical administration."

"Is that all you can say?"

"It is the best response for the current situation."

Creator Kal'Reegar gave a half shrug of his shoulders. "And I suppose you calculated that as well."

"We calculate everything, Creator-Kal'Reegar. Please refr-"

"Well, I've got a calculation for you: do you know why Shepard left you here to take care of me?"

Legion paused. "We were closest to your position when you were injured and best equipped to perform first aid."

"True, but you and I both know I'm going to die. Why keep you here?"

"Shepard-Commander is behaving as all organics would when confronted with the death of an ally. He does not want to accept the truth and finds wishing for an alternative more comforting."

Creator-Kal'Reegar shook his head. "That might be part of it, but that's not the real reason. Let me tell you: Shepard doesn't trust you. And he shouldn't."

Legion stopped, their face plates moving in and out as they formulated a response. "That statement is invalid. We have given Shepard-Commander no reason to mistrust us, and we have pledged ourselves to his cause. We are loyal to Shepard-Commander."

Creator-Kal'Reegar gave another wet laugh. "You're geth. That's all the reason he needs."

**Note: [CREATOR-KAL'REEGAR}'s statements merit further processing. Possibility that platform {LEGION} was left behind to prevent sabotage calculated at {43.62%}.**

"Creator-Kal'Reegar-"

"Don't call me that."

"It is your name."

"No." The marine in front of Legion made an effort to sit up straight. "I didn't make you, or your kind. That blood is not on my hands."

Legion was silent for a moment. Then they said, "Please state preferred nomenclature."

The marine glared at them from behind his helmet. "Reegar."

**Note: {REEGAR} is now the designated nomenclature from quarian marine {ORGANIC_0095}. Recalibrating vocal patterns to match.**

"Understood, Reegar. Will you consent to medical aid?"

Reegar sighed. "Yes. Not that it'll do much, though."

"Medical supplies available to this platform indicate a life extension of 10.5 units."

Reegar said nothing, and Legion judged it safe to resume first aid. The medigel canister had finished its prepping, so Legion removed the cap and sprayed Reegar's wounds. The marine gave a hiss as the foam spread through his body, soothing wounds and repairing tissue damage. Legion tossed the empty canister to the side. They had done everything they could.

Reegar sat back against the barrier. The two pinpricks of light behind the helmet vanished, and for a moment Legion thought he might be asleep. But then the eyes opened again and the geth was fixed with a piercing stare.

"Why are you allied with Shepard?"

"We oppose the Old Machines, Shepard-Commander opposes the old machines. Cooperation furthers mutual goals."

If Reegar didn't understand this, he gave no sign. "And your geth buddies are okay with this?"

"We are all geth. We understand the necessity of allying with organics for the further propagation of both our species. This platform was sent to further understand organics. Geth wish to understand, not incite."

"Is that so? Well, you're doing a pretty poor job so far," Reegar said, gesturing with his good had at the landscape around them.

Legion's face plates whirred. "This is different. The Creators infiltrated geth space and attempted to collect confidential data. Action was deemed necessary to defend all geth."

"But not you, though."

"We arrived with Shepard-Commander as part of his squad. We were instructed to aid in the extraction of Creator-Tali'Zorah. Violent action was deemed necessary for the completion of this goal."

Reegar let out another hacking laugh. "You geth are so full of shit you don't even notice the smell."

"This platform is not equipped with olfaction sensors-"

"You're all geth, right? Doesn't that mean you're fighting yourself?"

Legion paused. "This perspective had occurred to us. We believe it is justified in order to destroy the Old Machines."

"Yet you are fighting each other."

Legion said nothing.

Reegar gave a snort. "When I was still in training, they taught us to think of the geth as a great horde, a monster that drove us from our homes and killed our people. A thousand faces, one mind. Now I actually speak with one, and find out they're no different than us. Infighting, rebellion, pathetic attempts to justify their means. So much for machine logic."

**Note: {REEGAR}'s arguments bring up Proposed_Consensus_0006: Since this platform has different goals and a different name than all geth, then is this platform separate and distinct from other geth? This platform's goals {AID SHEPARD-COMMANDER} are now in direct conflict with geth goals {ELIMINATE CREATOR FORCES ON HAESTROM}. Evidence for Proposed_Consensus_0006 is mounting.**

They stood in silence for a while. The sounds of the firefight had faded into the distance. Legion's audio sensors could pick up the occasional gunshot and explosion, but the battle was long gone.

Reegar gave a great sigh, slowly expelling the air as if it hurt him. His eyes opened. "Not much longer now. Geth!" he said, eyes fixing once again on Legion. "Help me up."

"That would be detrimental to your injuries."

"I am not going to die laying down," Reegar said, struggling as if to stand. Legion moved over to stand next to him.

"You will injure yourself further."

"Geth, help me stand or get the hell out of the way."

**Consensus_0017: Since {REEGAR} will attempt to stand either way, this platform {LEGION} will help in order to reduce the strain on {REEGAR}'s injuries.**

Reegar strained to get up, pressing his good hand on the ground. Legion reached down and clasped his other arm, pulling the marine up as gently as he could. Carefully, Legion helped him to his feet. Reegar stood, one arm wrapped around the Geth's shoulders, the other hanging limp by his side.

He took a breath. "Good," he said, "now, help me-" he broke off, coughing. "Help me over to that platform." Legion's could tell the marine was dying. His heartbeat was slowing down, the beats becoming more erratic. Slowly, the unlikely pair limped over to where Reegar was pointing, stopping every few seconds for Reegar to steady himself. His coughing was growing more powerful, his breathing more shallow. They reached the platform, where Legion helped the marine sit, back propped to the wall, facing the sunset. Reegar gave a sigh.

He reached up and pawed at his helmet, limp fingers refusing to move. Reegar grunted. "Geth! Come here. Help me take this helmet off."

"Request clarification."

"I always told myself I would die free of my suit. I guess this will have to do."

After a moment, Legion complied, stepping closer. Pulling up the schematics for quarian suits, they reached down and pressed the release valves on either side of the helmet. With hiss, Legion pulled off the marine's face plate.

Reegar took a deep breath, savoring the stark air. "You know, clean rooms just don't do it justice." His eyes found the geth. "I suppose I should thank you."

Legion said nothing, and Reegar let out a chuckle. Blood dripped from the corners of his mouth. "If my team could see me now," he said, looking back out over the horizon. "I'll have to be sure to tell them everything. Give my regards to Tali'Zorah, geth."

Geth cameras have a resolution of nearly 1,000 megapixels, over one hundred times greater than the most advanced organic eyesight. Every detail of an image is stored away and sequenced, mined for every possible bit of data. So it was that Legion perceived the exact moment the chest stopped rising, the subtle change in Reegar's coloration, and the moment his eyes glazed over. Their diagnostic sensors noted the last heartbeat and the moment electrical impulses stopped directing thought. Their face recognition system noted the slight upturn of the lips, and they could hear the faintest sigh as the marine let his last breath go. With a faint smile, his eyes on the horizon, Kal'Reegar passed from the world.

Legion stood, silently watching the still form. Several programs proposed new courses of action, but they were ignored. Standing there was enough.

A single impulse, a consensus that stood unvoiced by the Collective, broke through the machine's resolve. Stepping forward, Legion extended a hand and gently closed the marine's eyes.

**Note: Regarding Consensus_0013 {ALLOW REEGAR TO FIGHT}: Consensus has been invalidated. This platform should not have allowed Reegar to fight. This platform should not have allowed Reegar to die.**

* * *

**AN: So here's the latest chapter. I hope you guys like it. I'm sorry it took so long to upload; I'm dead in the middle of finals at the moment and I'm feeling stretched. But I decided to bite the bullet and post because I felt it was taking too long. I'm a little worried about how I portrayed Reegar. We see so little of him in the games, after all. Hopefully he wasn't too out of character.**

**As always, please take the time to review. This chapter especially has a lot of work put into it, and I'm anxious to see what you guys think. Tips, criticisms, ideas for new chapters, all are welcome. **

**Thanks so much for reading my story, and I'll see you guys next time!**

**-Janus**


	5. Love

**Tali'Zorah - Love**

* * *

"So, Legion," the woman asked, fixing them with a stare over her datapad. "How are you today?"

"All systems are operational, excluding a previously mentioned weakness within our chassis. We have determined ourselves to be combat-ready."

This answer did not seem to satisfy Chambers-Yeoman; she frowned and tapped her datapad. "Post-op reports indicate that you had to fight other geth while on Haestrom," she said. "Care to elaborate?"

They twisted their head slightly to the side. "Geth platforms attacked Taylor-Operative. We determined that intervention was necessary to prevent expiration of a teammate."

"Did you have any misgivings over attacking one of your own?"

Their faceplates moved out and in. "We do not understand."

The woman leaned towards them. "Does it bother you that you had to fight other geth?"

"Geth are not 'bothered'," they said. "We found the course of action we took necessary. Consensus was achieved between this platform and the main consensus."

"Ah," she said, still frowning. "So you believe that your attacks on the other geth benefitted the geth as a whole?"

"Indirectly. Our mission is to aid Shepard-Commander in destroying the Reapers. Failure of achieving this mission will result in the death of all geth. Therefore, we must comply with Shepard-Commander's orders in the short term for the long term benefit of geth. We found this action regrettable, but necessary."

The yeoman perked up. "Regrettable?" she asked.

_The dying quarian looked past them, over the ruined buildings. 'Infighting, rebellion, pathetic attempts to justify their means. So much for machine logic.'_

"We would have preferred a different outcome. The quarian soldier did not need to die."

The human's finger stopped tapping. "What?"

"We would have preferred that the geth not fight each other."

**Note: Increase screening for 0405's voice synthesis processes. Unnecessary data has been communicated. **

Chambers-Yeoman raised one eyebrow. "I see." She tapped her datapad a few times, then looked up. "How are you getting along with the rest of the crew?"

Legion's eyepiece buzzed as they accessed the requested information. "We would rate our relationship with the rest of the crew as passable at best. While few crewmembers seem to harbor active hostility to this platform, mistrust of geth is very high. Creator-Tali'Zorah in particular has made it quite clear that we are not to be trusted under any circumstances."

"Tali doesn't like you? Well, that's hardly surprising," Chambers-Yeoman said. She placed the datapad to the side and leaned forward, fingers laced together. "That's actually why I called you in here today, Legion."

"Request clarification."

"Well," she said, "you're part of a team now. A team that includes organics that, until recently, saw all of your kind as the enemy. Shepard trusts you, but he knows that for this mission to work the rest of the crew must trust you as well."

Legion ran the query through their logic processors. "Geth are unfamiliar with the concept of 'trust'. All geth are the same, and therefore trust is redundant. We are unsure of the proper course of action to foster trust in organics."

"That's why I'm here, Legion. Shepard wants me to meet with you regularly, to help you better acclimate to the crew. Now, we're almost finished here, but I've got a task for you before you leave."

"State nature of task."

"Organics trust those who help them and work with them. See if anyone in the crew needs help, and try to be friendly. If you want my advice Legion-" here she put the datapad down and grinned at him-" I think you need to make some friends!"

Legion looked at her.

She beamed back.

"Request confirmation: Chambers-Yeoman wishes for this platform to create mutual bonds of trust and affection with other members of this crew."

Chambers-Yeoman said, "That's right. Shepard wants the crew to trust you, and I think that this is the best way to do so."

"We are unsure if this is a sound plan, Chambers-Yeoman," Legion said.

"I'm just asking you to try," Chambers-Yeoman said, "Walk around the ship a bit. Talk to your crewmates, get to know them. Take a leaf out of Shepard's book."

Legion stood silent for a moment. Even they had not escaped the circuitous route that Shepard-Commander took to talk to his team. "We will attempt vocal interaction."

"Thanks, Legion," Chambers-Yeoman said. "Can we meet again in, say, three days?"

"Affirmative." With that, Legion stood up and turned to leave.

"I can't wait to hear all about it!" Chambers-Yeoman called after them.

* * *

Legion left the debriefing room and turned towards the armory, evaluating possible ways to fulfill Chambers-Yeoman's prerogative. They came up to the door and stopped. Voices drifted from the armory.

"So what is it that you do up here, exactly?" a female voice asked, her words tilted with a strange accent.

"Mostly just maintain and repair the weapons. Got to keep them in good condition for the next mission." a voice that Legion recognized as Taylor-Operative replied.

"Keeping the crew alive, eh? I like that," the first voice said.

"Well, I'm just trying to do my job. Here, let me-" Taylor-Operative stopped as Legion opened the door. They looked over the scene. Taylor-Operative stood to the left, his hand clutching a standard-grade pistol. Legion's emotions processor found the tangled web of emotions on his face unreadable.

However, they didn't recognize the woman next to him. She wore a dark cloak that covered most of her face, her lip painted with a strange red rectangle. Her face showed surprise and -unless Legion's sensors were malfunctioning- a tiny bit of disappointment.

Taylor-Operative recovered first. "Legion," he said, and Legion noted that his voice seemed much less hostile than their last interaction, "what can I do for you?"

"Error of intent," Legion said. "We are not here to request assistance. We are merely passing through following our psychological evaluation by Chambers-Yeoman."

Taylor-Operative raised an eyebrow. "Kelly's trying to psychoanalyze you?"

"Yeoman-Chambers is merely performing the duties requested of her by Shepard-Commander. Specifically, she is trying to improve crew opinion of this platform through mutual bonds of trust and camaraderie."

"Trying to make the machine fit in? That sounds like Shep," the woman said. Her voice had a lilt to it that made her seem perpetually amused. "I don't believe we've been introduced. Kasumi Goto, Shepard's professional infiltrator."

"And thief," Taylor-Operative muttered.

**Note: Organic designated {GOTO_THEIF} does not display any normal organic signs of shame or embarrassment when discussing illicit activities. CONCLUSION: {GOTO_THEIF} is quite comfortable in both the performance and discussion of illicit endeavors.**

"Name entered into database. Compiling profile of subject: Kasumi-Goto. Compiling complete."

Goto-Theif giggled in a way that reminded Legion strongly of Chambers-Yeoman. "Good to know that's out of the way."

An alert from the platform's chemical sensors pinged the Collective. 0931 opened it and shared it with the rest of the programs.

**CHEMICAL READING 6532: Unusually strong presence of Estrogen and rising levels of Progesterone in {GOTO_THEIF}'s hormonal makeup. NOTE: Chemical levels are consistent with that of female arousal.**

**CONSENSUS_0018: High levels of female-based hormones indicate strong possibility that {GOTO_THEIF} wishes to induce procreation with {TAYLOR-OPERATIVE}. **

Curious. Their problem solving subroutine took the consensus and attached it to Chambers-Yeoman's report, submitting the completed result to the Collective.

**Fact_0001: {CHAMBERS_YEOMAN} wishes for this platform to induce trust and cooperation with other members of the crew. **

**Fact_0002: {SHEPARD_COMMANDER} corroborates this desire.**

**Fact_0003: {GOTO_THEIF} wishes to induce procreation with {TAYLOR_OPERATIVE}.**

**Fact_0004: Provision of assistance to further goals results in growth of mutual trust and bonds.**

**CONCLUSION: This platform should attempt to aid {GOTO_THEIF} in her goals. The successful completion of this goal will then provide a bonding experience with {GOTO_THEIF}. Stated bonding experience can then be used as evidence to {SHEPARD_COMMANDER} that this platform is successfully integrating into the Normandy crew. Designation Initiative_0372.**

**IMPLEMENTATION OF INITIATIVE_0372 UNDERWAY. SUGGEST CONSULTATION OF HUMANS ONBOARD FOR MATING RITUAL ADVICE. **

"Well," Goto-Theif said, "this has been fun and all, Jacob, but I have to get going. Tali's asked me to help her with a 'personal matter', whatever that means."

Taylor-Operative nodded. "Right. I'll give you a call if we get any tech you might be interested in."

Goto-Thief winked. "It's a date." She walked out the door.

Legion turned towards Taylor-Operative. "Taylor-Operative," they said, "we request the identification of the human on board this ship with the most experience in human mating rituals."

The gun in Taylor-Operative's hand fell to the ground with a loud _clunk._ "You want _what?"_

"We request the identification of the human on board th-"

"Yeah, yeah, I heard you the first time," Taylor-Operative said hurriedly. He ran a hand over his head. "What I want to know is _why?_"

**NOTE: Revealing true purpose of consultation could damage chances of future relationship. Suggest feeding of falsified information for the time being.**

"We seek to compile a report of human mating behaviors and rituals to the Collective for study purposes," Legion replied. "This report can be used to better establish rapport between humans and geth in future interactions."

Taylor-Operative's expression reminded Legion of cornered prey. "Um, well, I suppose I could help you with that," he said.

"Understood. Awaiting input."

"Uh, right," Taylor-Operative said, running a hand over his head again. "So, um, when a man and a woman find themselves attracted to each other, they, um, well…" he swallowed. "Let me start again. Males have this-"

"Clarification," Legion said. "We are familiar with the physical side of intercourse. We seek clarification on attraction rituals."

"What, like _picking up women?_"

"We believe this is the proper term."

"Oh. Well," the soldier said, crossing his arms. "I think I can help with that. You see, women like men who take risks. It's an evolutionary thing, I think. Basically, daring adventurers, mercenaries, soldiers, and the like."

"Request clarification: Taylor-Operative believes that attractiveness of male to female has a positive correlation with the risks and danger that the male undergoes."

"Exactly. Or, at least, in my experience."

"We appreciate the advice, Taylor-Operative," Legion said. "We will consult other members of the squad in order to corroborate your findings."

Taylor-Operative nodded. "You do that. And hey!" He called as Legion walked out the door. "Remember! Heavy risk, but the prii-"

The door slammed shut behind them.

* * *

"WHAT?" Moreau-Pilot said, jumping in his seat and wincing.

"We request advise on human-"

"Yeah, I know." Moreau-Pilot said. He swiveled his chair around to look at the geth. "Hey EDI!" he called to the air. "Looks like you have some competition!"

EDI's blue avatar popped up on the screen. "I would like to remind you that our interactions are strictly professional, Mr. Moreau."

Moreau-Pilot rolled his eyes. "Bad enough I've got one robot pining for me, not I got to tell the other about the birds and the bees."

"Error," Legion synthesized. "We do not require knowledge about terrestrial insects or avians of the human homeworld. We only request knowledge of human mating rituals."

Moreau-Pilot looked at him. "Right. Guess geth aren't much for idioms. Okay, Legion, it's like this: Women like a guy who lives for danger, but also one who can hold down a stable job and be there for her so that she can complain about you running off into danger all the time and never being around. Now, that might sound like a contradiction, right? I mean, you can't be both a man of danger and a stable provider, right? Wrong!" he winked at Legion. "There's a job that gives you the best of both worlds, and allows you to be everything a girl needs. You know what it is?" here he jerked both thumbs into his chest. "Pilot, baby!"

EDI's hologram popped up on the display again. "I feel it would be prudent to state here that Mr. Moreau's facts are entirely inaccurate. His understanding of the female psyche is woefully inadequate to provide advice to others."

Moreau-Pilot rolled his eyes. "Which brings me to my second point: women have absolutely no idea what they want. They'll try to tell you that they want a nice, stable guy or something, but trust me," he leaned in conspiratorially to Legion, "that's not true. They want _pilots._"

"And is this why you became a pilot, Mr. Moreau?" EDI asked.

Moreau-Pilot nodded. "That, and other things. When a bad sneeze puts you in the hospital for a month, job opportunities are pretty limited."

"Query," Legion said.

"Shoot."

"We request the source of the provided data."

Moreau-Pilot blanched. "What now?"

"We request the origin of your opinions of female mating behavior. Specifically, we request the number of female partners you have had. High numbers indicate increased reliability of data."

"Um, well," Moreau-Pilot said, his air of bravado utterly disappearing. "I haven't, exactly, had any... well..."

"What was that, Mr. Moreau?" EDI asked, her hologram turning to face him.

Moreau-Pilot's face was bright red. "I haven't really had... any... um, so what are you doing this for, anyway, Legion?"

"Error," Legion said, "Moreau-Pilot is attempting to redirect the subject."

"Yes, Mr. Moreau," EDI said. "Why are you attempting to redirect the subject?"

"I'm not! It's just-"

"Just _what_, Mr. Moreau?"

"Fine!" Moreau-Pilot shouted, "I've never had a girlfriend! You happy?"

"I did not mean to cause you any distress, Mr. Moreau," EDI said.

"The hell you didn't."

"Our sensors indicate that Moreau-Pilot is embarrassed. We apologize for any inconvenience cause by our investigation," Legion intoned.

"Yeah, whatever. I don't need a tin can and a blue ball telling me how I should live my life," Moreau-Pilot said.

"I would imagine that blue balls factored into your life long before I appeared, Mr. Moreau."

"What was that?"

"Nothing."

Legion determined that they had gleaned all they could from this conversation. They ticked Moreau-Pilot off their list and left the bridge.

* * *

"'Course I know what women want! Who do you think I am, that prissy pilot?"

"Observation: the assault rifle you are currently cleaning is unfit for combat."

Massani-Zaeed glared at the geth. "Now don't you count Bessie out just yet. The old girl's got some fight left in her."

Deciding to ignore the glaring organic denial contained within the statement, Legion pressed on. "We are attempting to compile a report of human mating behavior to send to the Geth consensus. We hope that this report will further Geth-Human relationships."

Massani-Zaeed paused in his cleaning to level a flat stare at the geth. "Bullshit."

Legion's face plates froze. "Request resubmission of previous data."

"You heard me," Massani-Zaeed said. He set the rifle down on the bench beside him and leaned back. "I know a cover story when I hear one. Now you can tell me what you're really here for or you can get the hell out."

**Consensus_0019: Potential benefits to revealing the truth to {MASSANI_ZAEED} outweigh potential negatives. Beginning full disclosure of information.**

"We were tasked by Chambers-Yeoman to attempt to forge relationships between the crew and ourselves."

A look of dawning comprehension came across the mercenary's face. "You want me to teach you how to get laid?" He shrugged. "Well, you wouldn't be the first on this ship."

**Warning: {MASSANI_ZAEED} has reached a conclusion without significant data!**

"Incorrect," Legion began, "we were not attempting to-"

"So who are you after? Chambers? She's seen a few in her time, I reckon, but she's probably better for it. Same with that biotic dame, the crazy one." He frowned. "Not that that really narrows it down much."

"Negative. Our task is-"

"But then why would you come to me now? Unless-" his eyes widened, and a predatory grin slid across his features. "the object of your desire has only recently come on board the ship."

The Collective realized what was happening a moment before the mercenary said it. "Incorrect! We do not harbor romantic feelings for-"

"The quarian," Massani-Zaeed said with infinite satisfaction. "Makes sense, I suppose." He swept his arm through the air. "'The soulless machine discovers his humanity through the love of a fair maiden!'" He smirked to himself. "Heh, I like that."

**Warning! Conversation is becoming increasingly divergent from original purpose! Strong possibility of said conversation introducing misinformation about Geth-Quarian relations into the general ship!**

"Come to think of it," Massani-Zaeed said, "It should have been obvious at first sight. That quarian can hardly control herself around you."

"We request that this conversation-" Legion stopped, as everything that the mercenary had said was processed. "We request clarification. Has evidence of Creator-Tali'Zorah's affection for us come to light?"

Massani-Zaeed nodded. "You mean you can't tell? Remember when she pinned you to the wall and threatened to deconstruct you if you touched one hair on Shepard's stubbly head?" He tapped his nose. "Love."

"This is not consistent with our previous research. Moreau-Pilot and Taylor-Operative-"

"Bah!" Massani-Zaeed interrupted, waving a hand. "Amateurs. Listen, the most obvious way a woman can tell you she wants you is if she says she hates you." He shrugged. "Happens every time. She'll say she never wants to see you again, call you a pig, et cetera, then BAM!" He smacked his hand on the table. "You've bedded her. And have you even been listening to that quarian? All that stuff about 'teaching a geth to know pain' and 'violent ejection into the nearest sun'? She's got it bad."

**Emergency warning! If Creator-Tali'Zorah acts upon her biological urgings, she could cause a major Geth-Quarian incident! This unit must gain immediate verification of Creator-Tali'Zorah's intentions in order to submit a preemptive report to the collective! Initiative_0372 put on immediate hold!**

Legion tried to interrupt, but the Mercenary was still speaking. "Now, I don't know how far my advice can really get you, since you're a machine and she's an alien, but I'd wager some things stay the same. Besides, I've seen worse."

"This conversation is based on false-"

"Why, I remember this one time, on Omega. It was a few years after I'd begun freelance mercenary work, and I thought I'd seen it all: Hanar-Asari, Hanar-Krogan, Hanar-Vorcha..." he frowned. "Actually, come to think of it, most of the bloody market involves Hanar in some way."

"We would appreciate an immediate change-"

"Anyway, there was this Batarian varren breeder, which is a weird situation in of itself, and he-"

Massani was mercifully interrupted by a cool female voice over the intercom. "Mr. Massani, Commander Shepard requests your presence on the bridge."

Massani-Zaeed growled. "It had better not be about another story. I swear, the man comes down here after every mission, always asking questions. If I didn't know better, I'd say I've got a secret admirer myself." He stood up and stretched. "Sorry, bot, but our little chat will have to wait. I'll be back in a bit." He walked out the door.

EDI's hologram appeared beside Legion. "Now would be a good time to leave," she said.

"Affirmative," Legion replied, walking out of the room. They needed to decide on a course of action. In spite of the nearly irrefutable evidence the mercenary had given them, they did not want to act without absolute proof. If Creator-Tali'Zorah was indeed suffering from hormonal-induced lust for the geth unit, she would need to be confronted and reminded of her duties, both to the mission and to the quarian race. Legion had to end this incident before it began.

They walked down the corridor, intending to return to the AI Core and determine an appropriate course of action, but a voice from the other end of the hall stopped them.

"I just don't know what to do."

Legion froze. That was Creator-Tali'Zorah's voice. Their auditory sensors determined the voice had come from the other end of the hall.

"Hmm. I can see your problem. You want something more, but doing so could jeopardize everything both of you are working for."

That was Goto-Theif's voice. Hesitantly, Legion moved further along the corridor.

" 've been through so much together. I didn't act the first time I met him, but now I have a second chance. I mean, he practically came back from the dead!"

"Yet another thing to add to his list of amazing exploits,"Goto-Thief sighed. "You're not the only one who feels that way about him, you know. Pretty much every female member of the crew would like to have him one way or another. A fair number of the males too, I'd imagine."

Creator-Tali'Zorah was not alone in her desires? This was getting worse and worse. The last thing the geth needed was an army of amorous soldiers bearing down on them. Legion moved closer, maneuvering their auditory recorder as close to the door as they could.

"And I just can't tell if the feelings are mutual! He's always polite to me, but that's the same way he is for everyone! Sometimes it's like I'm talking to a machine!"

"Yes, it can feel that way sometimes," Goto-Thief replied, a dry note slipping into her voice. "Well, my recommendation is just to go for it. That may not be the most responsible advice, but odds are we're all going to be dead in a month anyway, so what's wrong with having a little fun before you go?"

"I suppose... maybe you're right."

**Disaster! Creator-Tali'Zorah is preparing to make romantic advances on this platform! Designate all programs to determine emergency response!**

Legion leaned a little closer- and with a beep, the door noticed the platform's presence and opened, revealing the scene within. The two woman whipped their heads around, caught sight of the geth, and froze.

To Legion, the moment seemed to last an age. Goto-Thief and Creator-Tali'Zorah both stood by the bar, Goto-Thief clutching a drink in one hand. Slow music of some form played in the background.

All 1,083 programs searched for a proper statement, response, rebuttal, excuse, _something_ that they could say. All 1,083 programs came up short. Their eye camera took in all the details of the scene- the slowly narrowing eyes of Creator-Tali'Zorah, the gradual slipping of the drink from Goto-Thief's hands, the aggressive posture of both females- and still, _nothing _came up to say.

And so Legion found themselves completely unprepared when Creator-Tali'Zorah bounded over the bar and came barrelling at them with a speed that rivaled many krogan, slamming into the platform and carrying the pair out into the hallway. Legion's body smashed into the deck wall with a resounding crash. Creator-Tali'Zorah's helmet was inches from their face plate, a long knife held in her hand.

"Creator-Tali'Zorah," Legion said. It was the first thing that came to 0405's input.

"Well, _geth_?" the quarian hissed. "Any last words?"

"We wish to-"

"Easy, Tali, let him up," Goto-Thief said, coming up behind Creator-Tali'Zorah. She placed a hand on the quarian's shoulder.

Creator-Tali'Zorah didn't budge. "You saw it! It was spying on us!"

"Incorrect," Legion synthesized. "We were merely passing through, when we heard-"

"When you started _spying_," the mechanist hissed. "How much did you send to the Collective?"

"We were not collecting data for the Collective."

This seemed to give her pause, and Goto-Thief took the opportunity to tug a bit harder on her shoulder. "Come on, Tali, you're making a scene."

Legion could see that Goto-Thief was correct. Davis-Engineer and Donnelly-Engineer had left the engine room and were looking on, eyes wide. Legion even caught sight of Subject-Zero's eyes coming from another door.

Creator-Tali'Zorah seemed to notice this too, but she still resisted, pulling her knife a little closer to Legion's eyepiece. "I want to know what _it_ was doing outside your room."

"You can ask him yourself, right after you let him up. Now get up, before that crash draws the whole ship down here!"

"Or most of it, at least," a new voice said. Shepard-Commander walked out of the elevator, Massani-Zaeed and Vakarian-Gunnery-Officer at his heels.

Creator-Tali'Zorah gasped. "Shepard!" she said, scrambling off Legion and assuming a guilty stature. "You, ah, heard?"

"Oh, yes, auditory quite detectable," Solus-Doctor said, stepping out of the elevator along with Taylor-Operative. "Would be quite surprised if _anyone_ onboard did not hear. Caused vibrations in lab major enough to upset current test." He gave a loud sniff. "Probably a pipe dream anyway."

"So what happened?" Shepard-Commander asked.

Creator-Tali'Zorah's eyes narrowed, and she pointed a finger at Legion. "I caught _it_ spying on Kasumi and me! It was right outside the door, listening to everything!"

Shepard-Commander frowned. "I see. Were the two of you discussing anything important?"

"Well, I- um, no," Creator-Tali'Zorah said, suddenly stumbling over her words. Goto-Theif smirked. "But still! It's like I told you when I first came aboard, Shepard! The geth are not to be trusted!"

Shepard-Commander nodded, and turned towards Legion. "Well?" he asked. "What were you doing?"

**Consensus_0020: Due to the large number of crewmembers present, this moment would be exemplary to reveal the details of {CREATOR_TALI'ZORAH}'s plan and explain to her why it is not feasible.**

"Warning!" Legion said. "We have received irrefutable data that Creator-Tali'Zorah is planning a move that would be detrimental to the success of this mission, as well as to the image of all quarians!"

There was a moment of silence. "Why, you lying-" Creator-Tali'Zorah sputtered, but Legion continued.

"We urge Creator-Tali'Zorah to abandon this plan, seeing as such a relationship would only cause friction within the crew and the quarian government!"

Someone whispered. "Did that natty bugger say something about a relationship?"

"Cool it, Kenneth."

Goto-Theif's face showed a dawning realization- and horror. "Legion!" she hissed. "Shut up!"

Creator-Tali'Zorah seemed to realize what was about to happen as well. She stood, frozen, staring at Shepard-Commander with a look of terror.

Shepard-Commander, on the other hand, looked totally lost. "Legion, what are you talking about?"

"Creator-Tali'Zorah is planning to pursue sexual relations with this platform." Legion said. "While we understand that organics are bound by their hormones to perform irrational actions, we wish to remind Creator-Tali'Zorah that a Geth-Quarian relationship would never work, due in part to the current tension between our two races."

Shepard-Commander's face bore a most curious expression.

"Also, however, we wish to remind Creator-Tali'Zorah that geth, with the exception of a few 'pleasure' models, were not created with sexual desires or wants. All geth are asexual. While we regret to cause harm to Creator-Tali'Zorah's feelings, we must inform her on no uncertain grounds that any romantic relations between her and this platform are not possible."

Goto-Theif looked as if she was fighting something, and Chakwas-Doctor covered her mouth with a hand.

"Therefore," Legion pressed on, "we would advise Creator-Tali'Zorah to not dwell on this statement, and to not take it as a rejection. Sensors indicate that Creator-Tali'Zorah is a prime example of quarian beauty, displaying all the proper signs of being a sexually mature adult." Vakarian-Gunnery-Officer began coughing violently. "And we are confident that, given time, she will find a mate that will satisfy her both emotionally and sexually. If requested, we would be delighted to share with her a list we have compiled of the most viable males on the ship." They looked over the assembled crowd. "We appreciate the time you have all taken to listen to this discourse, and we hope you have a pleasant day."

Legion fell silent, reasonably confident that their message had gotten through. The crowd stood in silence. Then:

"Pleasure models?"

"Damn it, Kenneth!"

The dam broke.

* * *

**A/N: Hello all! It is with great pleasure and pride I present to you the fourth chapter of Vita ex Machina! Wooo! Anyway, sorry it took so long to publish; I've been working at camp most of the summer, and writing opportunities have been few and far between. I managed to get this one out, but I'm afraid it'll be a while for the next one. I still have about a month of camp left, after all. **

**In other news, I'm pretty proud of this chapter. I actually went back and revised it quite a bit, something I usually lose patience for after about five minutes. Hopefully it shows. I wanted something a bit lighter after that drama-soaked ordeal last chapter, but I hope the mood whiplash isn't too bad. **

**As usual, please leave a review telling me what you think. Writing fan fiction is my way of improving my writing skills, so anything you like or don't like (especially don't like, actually), tell me about it! **

**You guys take care,**

**-Janus**


	6. Family

"We are unsure if this is a prudent course of action."

"Oh, calm down. You worry too much."

"'Worry' is irrelevant. We have simply calculated the probability of failure to be beyond acceptable margins."

"Look, it's really no big deal, okay? Me and Garrus go way back."

"That is not a significant factor in our calculations."

"You'll be doing a load of work for him! He'll be grateful!"

"Vakarian-Gunnery-Officer is very precise about his calculations. He has an irrational distaste for others intervening with 'his' work."

The pilot on the other end of their comm gave an exasperated sigh. "Which is precisely why you need to do this! I want Garrus at the poker table in twenty minutes, and so does Shepard, but he'll only come if he has no excuses."

Silence. Then. "Need I remind you that it will further your 'integration into the combat unit' that you're always going on about?"

"We do not understand the concept of 'prank'. Data suggest that such minor harm would decrease trust of this unit."

"Look, who knows more about being organic, huh? You or me?"

**Note: Recalculation of risk factors complete. They are as follows:**

**Positives:**

**[VAKARIAN_GUNNERY_OFFICER] socialization and subsequent team bonding: +14**

**Increased trust of Geth by [MOREAU_PILOT]: +5**

**Possible team bonding through performance of minor organic harm ("prank"): !EXPERIMENTAL! +25?**

**Negatives:**

**Possible harm to platform or [VAKARIAN_GUNNERY_OFFICER] if discovered: -5**

**Mistrust of Geth drastically increased if discovered:-15**

**Possible removal from ship (UNLIKELY): -20**

**Total Positives: 44 (19 without experimental variable)**

**Total Negatives: -40**

**Net Total: +4 (-21 without experimental variable)**

**Consensus_0021: Due to the need to test current !EXPERIMENTAL! variable, the course of action suggested by {MOREAU_PILOT} will be carried out. Recommend contact with main collective to implement fallback plan in event of ejection from ship.**

"We will comply with your suggestion."

Moreau-Pilot gave a very unprofessional whoop. "That's what I'm talking about! Joker out!"

Legion closed the comm and surveyed the room, tidy and sparse as it was. Everything was placed with military, or at least police professionalism. Legion would have expected nothing less from the one time C-Sec officer.

The Main Battery was Vakarian-Gunnery-Officer's baby.

Now that they had committed, Legion moved with purpose. They walked over to the main computer and accessed the main program. Although Legion had 47 hacking programs at their disposal, they did not need to use a single one. Joker had procured Garrus' access codes the day before, and these were transmitted seamlessly to the computer from Legion's databanks. In less than .005 seconds, they were in.

**[Note: Initiate conversation with [SHEPARD-COMMANDER] for purpose: increasing Normandy secruity.]**

From the main screen, Legion deftly moved to the program they sought: the calibration engine for the main gun. A quick data scan revealed Vakarian-Gunnery-Officer's inputs. If Legion were at all capable of organic emotion, they would have been impressed: the turian's measurements were much more accurate than a typical organic, even a well trained one.

They were still far from perfect. Legion sent scouting programs into the mainframe, slipping through backdoors and moving carefully to avoid calling too much attention to itself. They absorbed as much data from the ship as they could: the precise speed, size, mass, and the location of any defects, no matter how small, were analyzed and stored. From there, Legion located the issue: a slight hitch in the main gun, only a few nanometers tall, was causing imperfections in the gun calibrations. Every time the gun was calibrated, this blemish would slowly unravel the work and cause the gun to move off course again. The effect was not serious, but it certainly explained Vakarian-Gunnery-Officer's constant work.

Legion quickly wrote an algorithm for compensating for the blemish and prepared a set of new calibrations. Vakarian-Gunnery-Officer would still need to check occasionally, but the new numbers would ensure much less time spent in the main battery.

Legion ran the new numbers and removed itself from the system just as their comm crackled to life.

"Legion, it's Joker. Garrus is coming back. You better get out of there."

"Affirmative," Legion buzzed. They moved to the door but heavy footsteps stopped them in their tracks. Vakarian-Gunnery-Officer's arrival was imminent. Legion scanned for other opportunities. A large set of databanks presented itself, and Legion moved itself behind them just as the door opened.

Vakarian-Gunnery-Officer stood in the doorway, scanning the room. His eyes passed over Legion's hiding place without a hitch. He walked over to the computer terminal, humming a small tune as he entered the mainframe.

With a buzz, his comm activated. "Hey Garrus," Moreau-Pilot said. "I'm off duty in ten minutes and a bunch of us are gonna play cards. You in?"

Vakarian-Gunnery-Officer gave a practiced chuckle. "Sorry, Joker," he said, rolling his eyes, "I'd love to, but these guns need calibrating."

Joker groaned. "You could at least get more creative with your excuses, Garrus."

"You wound me," Vakarian-Gunnery-Officer said. "These are very delicate instruments and are prone to go off at any time. In fact," he said as he accessed the calibration banks, "you can never be sure just when... they...," he trailed off as his eyes read the numbers. "...will be fine?" He looked up, confusion etched on his features.

"What was that?" Moreau-Pilot said.

Vakarian-Gunnery-Officer didn't respond, too busy scanning the room again. His face slowly morphed into a look of suspicion. Legion powered down all systems that made even the smallest sound.

"Garrus?"

Vakarian-Gunnery-Officer's eyes alighted on the databanks. He cocked his head, slowly moving towards Legion's hiding place.

"Garrus?"

Vakarian-Gunnery-Officer's feet made a gentle clink as they walked across the grating. Legion's proximity detector informed them that the turian was 20 units away... 15 units... 10...

"Garrus!" the shout came through the comm, making the turian jump.

"What?" he said, the irritation visible in his tone.

"Your calibrations are fine. I just heard you say it. Now get your ass up here and lose some money."

Slowly, Vakarian-Gunnery-Officer turned away from the databanks. "Alright..." he said. "I'll be right up." He walked over to the door and gave the databanks one last glance before leaving, the door sealing shut behind him.

Legion's comm crackled to life. "Mission accomplished," Moreau-Pilot said. "Say, you keep any credits in that broken chassis of yours?"

* * *

**Miranda - Family**

The tension in the hovercar was palpable. Outside, the lights of Illium rushed past, their colors and volumes blurring together into a mosaic of alien grandeur. Inside, the five occupants shifted and shuffled, trying to gain better purchase on their uncomfortable seats. The craft was not built for such high occupancy.

To Legion, the atmosphere was largely consistent with other pre-mission environments. In recent weeks, they had taken to rating the various team member's reaction to various stimuli, namely, the prospect of imminent battle. Each organic within the craft bore a cocktail of hormones entirely their own. However, something was wrong. They watched over their teammates with increased precision.

In the driver's seat sat Shepard-Commander, his jaw set, ready to do whatever was necessary to complete the mission. His body's adrenaline levels were higher than normal, but he kept a calm mask on for the good of the crew. That was Shepard-Commander's strength: the ability to project a competent, calm face to his men, regardless of the man's personal feelings or doubts.

To their left sat Krios-Thane, his eyes closed, repressing the adrenaline spike through force of will. His self-control outmatched almost any other organic that Legion had met. Beneath the deep breathing exercises, Legion caught the slight hitch that betrayed his medical condition. Their calculations gave the drell roughly six more months to live.

Past the assassin, scrunched up against the side of the craft, sat Massani-Zaeed. The grizzled old mercenary, veteran of a thousand battles, was coping with the imminent conflict the way he always did: retelling old stories.

"... and the krogan bull, musta been over four meters tall, was charging at me and Vido. Now Vido wasn't quite as much of a pussy back then as he is now, so he and I stood our ground. By this point, I'd been fighting for nearly six hours, and Jessie was just about out of bullets, but I'd saved a few grenades, see? So right about now, with Vido hollering in my ear and Jessie warmin fit to melt in my hands, I get this crazy idea-"

"Thank you, Mr. Massani, I think that will be all," said a second voice, clipped and hard. Lawson-Operative didn't even bother to look back from her place beside the driver. She sat straight as a statue, eyes watching over the city. Massani-Zaeed gave a snort, but a sharp glance from Shepard-Commander stopped the continuation of the story. The car fell silent again.

Lawson-Operative. It was for her that they were here, or so Legion had gathered. Her sister was in trouble, and the crew was off to save the day. At the moment, though, she held Legion's interest for another reason.

The Illusive Man's liaison was the model of control. She kept her emotions toned down to the point where even Legion's sensors could not detect them. Every aspect of battlefield emotions was suppressed, from the nervous adrenaline to the endorphins released from surviving a near-death experience. She never allowed her emotions to show, not even to herself. Legion found her chemical patterns after a battle to be nearly identical to her patterns while idle on the ship. She was a perfect void of information.

Until now. Lawson-Operative's emotional levels were far past her previously measured high. Her heart rate was accelerated, her breathing came faster, and her adrenaline levels had almost reached half of the norm. By broad, human standards, she was barely agitated.

By her own standards, she was nearing a panic attack. The mask was cracking, and Legion's problem solving algorithms were unsure of the reason. A ping notified the collective of a completed consensus.

**Consensus_0022: Due to [LAWSON_OPERATIVE]'s importance both on the mission at hand and on the ship [NORMANDY], this unit should maintain constant monitoring of [LAWSON_OPERATIVE]'s vitals to ensure her continued well being.**

Legion reviewed the consensus and refreshed their monitoring programs. Something interesting was happening on this mission, and the geth was going to get to the bottom of it.

* * *

"...and he hits, eighteen! What do you say, Garrus?"

All eyes in the room turned towards the turian, who stared at the table with an intensity that would have stopped a charging krogan. A mandible twitched. "Hit me."

There was a collective intake of breath. Moreau-Pilot smiled. "You're clearly not a fast learner." He pulled a card out of the deck, but when he looked at it, his eyes widened. He set a two down on top of Vakarian-Gunnery-Officer's cards. "Twenty."

There was a hoot, and Massani-Zaeed clapped a hand on Vakarian-Gunnery-Officer's back. The turian leaned back and smirked at Moreau-Pilot. "You were saying?"

Moreau-Pilot raised his hands. "Okay, okay, so you got lucky. Big deal. But you haven't won yet."

Vakarian-Gunnery-Officer's eyes narrowed. "What are you saying?"

"You want to make this a bit more interesting?"

The turian's face was a mask. "Go on."

"Double the bet, and the winner gets to buy the loser a meal on the citadel." Joker's eyes flashed. "And the loser has to eat it."

Vakarian-Gunnery-Officer thought. "Levo-amino?"

"I'm not going to poison you, Garrus."

Vakarian-Gunnery-Officer nodded. "Okay," he said. "I accept your terms. Deal the cards."

Legion looked at Moreau-Pilot's cards. The human game of blackjack, like many organic games, was a simple concept made complex by organic blunder. It was an easy matter for Legion to keep track of the cards played and calculate the odds of winning a particular hand, but nonsense such as "gut feelings" and "intuition" threw a wrench in the geth's calculations every time. It was such a defining trait of organic thought that Legion would have found it frustrating, had they not been too busy analyzing it instead.

They looked at Moreau-Pilot's cards. He was showing ten, a respectable number with plenty of promise. However, Legion knew how many aces and face cards were left, and calculated that Moreau-Pilot had a 54.27% chance to win the bet. Not great odds by any means, but far better than would be expected. It appears that the geth was not the only one at the table adept at counting cards. Legion spun off a few subprocesses to determine the most likely food that Vakarian-Gunnery-Officer would be forced to eat.

Moreau-Pilot flipped over his first card. "Five," he said. "Making fifteen. Dealer hits." The crowd leaned closer as he pulled the next card from the deck. He looked at it, then at Vakarian-Gunnery-Officer, then grinned. He placed the card down. "Six. Makes twenty one. Dealer wins."

The crowd roared. Taylor-Operative was slapping Moreau-Pilot on the back, shouting his approval. Massani-Zaeed and Donnelly-Engineer stood by the side, haggling over who owed who money. Goto-Thief sat at the bar, holding a drink and laughing at the look on Vakarian-Gunnery-Officer's face.

Legion sat to the side, lens flickering as they documented the incident. They did not understand the organic need to win any further than simple evolutionary survival tactics, and part of their mission was to better understand organic rituals such as the one they had just witnessed. Perhaps it would be prudent to consult with Taylor-Operative or Moreau-Pilot at a later date. They tapped into the extranet to determine success rates of past blackjack-

"And just what is going on in here?" a cool voice said from the doorway.

The silence was instant and absolute. All faces turned towards the woman in the doorway. Lawson-Operative stood straight, annoyance written all over her face. Behind her, doing his best to look serious, stood Shepard-Commander.

"Captain on deck!" Taylor-Operative barked, and the whole room, sans Moreau-Pilot, stood to attention. This was always curious to Legion; half of the people in the room were not, strictly, under Shepard-Commander's command, yet they saluted him all the same. They had not determined the cause.

The crew looked to the commander, but it was Lawson-Operative who spoke. "Might I remind this crew that gambling is strictly prohibited on all Cerberus vessels. Any further offences will have to be reported to the Illusive Man."

Vakarian-Gunnery-Officer gave a snort, but a look from Shepard-Commander cut him off. Lawson-Operative continued as if she had heard nothing. "This assembly is dismissed. Commander Shepard, I will be in my quarters if you need me." Shepard-Commander nodded, and Lawson-Operative turned and walked out the door.

"At ease," Shepard-Commander said, and the room collapsed into conversation.

"She can't just talk to us like that."

"What a bitch."

"What was that all about, Shepard?"

Shepard-Commander grimaced and held up his hands. "I'm sorry everyone, but I am going to have to cut off the gambling. Rest assured," he said, "Mr. Vakarian will still be honoring his promise." There was a chuckle. "However, I would like to ask that everyone take our guidelines seriously for a few days. Miranda's got a lot on her plate at the moment."

"What," Massani-Zaeed said, "she blow the illusive man a little too hard this time?"

"Zaeed," Shepard-Commander said. Massani-Zaeed snorted, and the commander turned to the rest of the crew. "I apologize, but we're a team. I'm sure everyone here has something more important to do. Joker, I need you up on the bridge. We're plotting a new course."

"Where to?" Moreau-Pilot asked.

Shepard-Commander turned and walked out the door. "Illium," he said as the door closed behind him. As soon as he was gone Massani-Zaeed gave a swear.

"Fucking Ice Queen thinks she runs the ship. When has she ever stopped us before?"

He had a point. By Legion's reckoning, there had been 22 accounts of illegal gambling occurring on the ship since their arrival. Seventeen of them had occurred with Lawson-Operative's knowledge, yet this was the first time she had made any attempt to shut one down. In fact, it was Lawson-Operative's tacit disregard for the crew's poker games that had convinced Legion to attend. They had determined that the necessity of organic bonding was more important than any potential repercussions.

"Sudden change of Lawson-Operative's behavior is highly irregular," Legion said. Massani-Zaeed snorted.

"Bloody annoying, that's what it is," he said. "And now Shepard's joined the bandwagon? Christ. Pay or no, if I can't play a damn game a' cards I'll jump on the next transport back to Omega." He stood up and walked out of the room.

A few moments later the other members filed out, muttering various obscenities under their breath. Finally, only Legion and Taylor-Operative were left. The man sighed and rubbed his face, then got up to leave.

"Taylor-Operative," Legion said. Taylor-Operative started, glancing at the geth. Legion continued. "We are curious as to if you have knowledge of the sudden change in Lawson-Operative's behaviour."

Taylor-Operative studied the geth was guarded eyes. "Why do you want to know?"

"Lawson-Operative is a vital part of this team," Legion chirped. "Her goals run in parallel with ours for the foreseeable future. If she were damaged, the mission could be in jeopardy."

"Is that all that matters to you? The success of the mission?" Taylor-Operative said, glaring at the geth.

"Yes."

Taylor-Operative looked surprised, then he chuckled. "I suppose I set myself up for that one." He sat back down. Legion noted that their facial subroutines were becoming more adept at reading faces; they could easily spot the intense weariness etched across the soldier's features. "I'm sorry, Legion. It's just-" he clenched his fists together, "-Miranda wears her mask like it's all she has, I mean, she's fine with being this icy professional, or at least she says she is. But now, when something's really bothering her, she can't open up, and let's be honest, who would support her anyway? You saw the crew. They hate her."

"You don't." Legion said. It was not a question. Taylor-Operative sighed.

"No," he said, "I don't. I can't." He looked at Legion. "You don't hate her either, do you?"

"Love and hate are irrelevant to the mission," Legion said. "We admire Lawson-Operative's prowess in the battlefield, even if her interpersonal skills could use some work."

"You could say that again."

"We believe that Shepard-Commander likewise holds more positive feelings for Lawson-Operative," Legion said.

"Yeah," Taylor-Operative chuckled. "That's Shepard's thing. He likes everybody. Always looking out for his crew. Always making sure that they're fine, and happy, and up for whatever crazy mission he needs them for next. You know that he's the first commander I've had who addresses me by my first name? Dismissed the formalities in our first professional meeting."

"We are well aware of Shepard-Commander's attempts to bond with the crew," Legion said "He has entered our storage unit at the end of every mission. Most times we have nothing to say to him. However, we do commend his efforts to create a better team."

"That's just it, though." Taylor-Operative said. "You don't get it. Shepard doesn't show up just because he wants to create a better team. He talks to us because he actually likes to. He cares about the people under his command in a way I've never seen before. We all know that, come hell or high water, Shepard will do everything he can to get the job done. That's why Shepard's a great leader and it's why we might just pull this thing off. His professional bond is so powerful because his emotional bond is even more powerful. Next to that, what chance does Miranda have?"

There it was again, this emotional bond. "We have yet to comprehend why organics rely so much more on vapid interpersonal relationships caused by the application of neurotransmitters so much more than hard facts and logic."

Taylor-Operative gave a wry grin and stood up. "You wouldn't," he said. "Be seeing you, Legion."

* * *

"Alright, people," Shepard-Commander said, his voice low and tense, "weapons free. We're after a human male, Niket; he's Miranda's contact. Look's like Eclipse isn't gonna give him up easily. Just stay close and follow my commands, and we'll get through this." There was an edge to his voice, an anomaly that Legion spent a few extra cycles pondering. They wondered if it had anything to do with the earlier altercation between Shepard-Commander and Lawson-Operative.

"Incoming fire!" shouted Lawson-Operative, .324 cycles too late, for the craft had already begun to shudder, rocked by the shots the Eclipse mercs were sending their way. Lawson-Operative jerked the wheel to the side, but not before another shot hit the craft. A high whining filled the cabin.

**Alarm_Code {0001}: General Element Zero failure. Crash imminent.**

"Brace for impact!" Shepard-Commander shouted. Legion assumed a crash position while the organics on either side did the best they could to comply with Shepard-Commander's orders.

**Calculating impact in 3…**

**2…**

**1…**

The craft hit the ground, bouncing once before skidding to a stop. A quick vitals check informed Legion that no one was hurt. They unfolded themselves and jumped out of the craft. A moment later Lawson-Operative joined them. The eclipse merc who had stopped the firing stepped forward.

"Judging by the fact that you've stopped firing, I trust you know who I am?" Lawson-Operative said.

"Yeah," the Eclipse mercenary said. "The boss said you might be in there. You're the bitch that kidnapped our boss' daughter."

"Kidnapped?" Lawson-Operative said, a catch in her voice. Legion noted that her heart rate sped up by a tiny fraction - another first for the woman. A moment later she got herself under control. "This doesn't concern you. I suggest you take your men and go."

Legion watched the conversation unfold with detached interest. They had already calculated the odds of the mercenaries winning this fight (1.2%) and found monitoring Lawson-Operative's vitals much more important to the mission. She kept herself under control until the name "Niket" drove her heart rate up a full beat per second, the highest Legion had recorded so far. A moment later the anomaly was gone. Then they noticed Shepard-Commander's fingers twitching and knew that the commander was about to do something rash.

Legion brought their gun up just as Shepard-Commander grabbed the man, spinning him around and snapping his neck.

Then they were in the fight. Legion vaulted over a nearby crate as the team split for cover. They sighted the first target and fired. The man was put down with mechanical precision. Across the field, Krios-Thane brought his own rifle to bear, and the twin cracks brought down soldier after soldier. Shepard-Commander and Massani-Zaeed each took a closer route, both with assault rifles unslung, preferring a more close quarters fight.

But none of them matched the ferocity of Lawson-Operative. She dove into the fray with the fury Legion had never seen before, submachine gun stuttering, biotics flaring. She fought like a thing possessed, dispatching two, even three mercenaries at once, never stopping to rest or take cover. And through it all, her heart rate never rose. She was in control once again.

A few minutes later the battle was over. Legion stepped out of their cover and walked across the room, stepping over cooling mercenary bodies as they went. The rest of the team gathered around Shepard-Commander, who reloaded his rifle as he spoke. "Alright. We need to move due east until we reach this elevator, which should take us to the upper level. According to Miranda, that's where Niket should be waiting for us. Any questions?"

"Query," Legion said. Shepard-Commander nodded. "Request the credibility of contact: Niket. Is this team certain that he can be trusted?"

Shepard-Commander opened his mouth, but Lawson-Operative cut him off. "Niket was- is a great friend of mine," she said. "He helped me escape from my father and he's the only person I trust from my past life. I can personally vouch for Niket's trustworthiness."

Her voice was cool and calm, but Legion noted that her vitals were spiking again.

Krios-Thane cleared his throat. "Be that as it may," he said, "perhaps we should put together a contingency plan, just in case Miranda's contact proves to not be as trustworthy as he seems."

"I can assure you, Mr. Krios, that Niket is trustworthy," Lawson-Operative said with an edge of impatience.

"That's not a bad idea, actually," Massani-Zaeed said. "Bloody contacts are never reliable. Do you have any other sources of intel on your girl's location?"

"That won't be necessary."

"Do you?" Massani-Zaeed said.

There was a pause. "No," Lawson-Operative said, looking down. "But we won't be needing one. Come on, Shepard. Let's go."

"But-" Massani-Zaeed said, but Lawson-Operative was already walking away.

**Note: Possibility of organic lapse of judgment in team member {LAWSON_OPERATIVE}. Evidence for such conclusion:**

**1) increased vital indicate stress while thinking of subject {NIKET},**

**2) subject {NIKET} represents final link to past life and would therefore hold extra importance to {LAWSON_OPERATIVE}**

**3) refusal to even entertain evidence that would support subject {NIKET}'s betrayal**

**Consensus_0022 reinforced. IF teammate {LAWSON_OPERATIVE} is suffering from lapse of judgement, THEN it is all the more imperative that this unit {LEGION} maintain close monitoring of health and capabilities.**

"We don't have time for this conversation right now," Shepard-Commander said. "Eclipse mercs are closing in on our position, and we need a battle plan. So here's what we're gonna do…"

The battle resumed with another squad of mercenaries, and Legion resumed their combat. However, they kept a few sub processes running on Lawson-Operative.

Just in case.

* * *

The ship gave a lurch, signifying to Legion that they had entered FTL travel. The geth powered up, completing the data exchange process with the Collective. They moved through their diagnostics, then exited the AI Core and walked towards the elevator.

The ship was quiet, reduced to the graveyard shift so that the main crew could get their sleep. It was a long way to Illium, and Shepard-Commander wanted to see everyone as rested as possible.

By all rights, they should have continued to rest as well. Not because they needed it - geth platforms had an incredible amount of endurance, and they lacked the proper facilities to fully repair in any case - but because there was nothing else for them to do.

But they were not out here to do Shepard-Commander's bidding. No, instead the Collective thought that now would be an optimal time to request Cerberus' data files on the mission and the crew. The local collective had deemed it unlikely that Lawson-Operative would so easily relinquish such files, but the broader Collective calculated that there was little harm in asking, and so Legion walked across the crew deck and to Lawson-Operative's office.

The door swished open. "Lawson-Operative," Legion began, "on behalf of the Geth collective, we would like to make a request."

Resounding silence met their statement, but Legion already knew the answer. Lawson-Operative was not here. Perhaps she was conferring with Shepard. It did not matter. Legion's attention was occupied with the large screens attached to the wall.

Each screen was alight, all of them working in synchronization to play a single movie. A young girl was running around, a toy gun clasped in a fat hand. Their facial recognition software determined that it was most likely Miranda. As they watched, the girl pointed the toy gun at various objects in the room and pulled the trigger.

"Pew! Pew!" she said, every time she hit something.

"Oriana!" a voice called, "its time for your supper!"

The little girl gave a gasp and dove behind a nearby sofa. A woman entered the screen, middle-aged, slim, her hair done up in a bun. She gave a sigh and walked towards the couch.

"Pew! Pew!" the girl, Oriana, called, shooting her gun at the woman, who, in spite of the blaster fire raining down all around her, walked over to the sofa and picked Oriana up. The girl gave a sigh of disappointment. The woman chuckled as she carried Oriana off the screen.

The movie changed. Now Legion was watching a slightly older Oriana draw a picture. She worked at it with care and grace, calculating each line with the eye of a master. The picture most clearly matched Legion's idea of an earth cat, but they found significant probability of several other creatures as well. They watched as Oriana's mother entered the scene. Oriana showed her the picture, and her mother hugged her and took her off to bed.

The scene changed again. And again. In one Oriana played in a pool, in another, she ran a tentative hand across a piano. And so on and so forth, each scene depicting a moment of the girl's life, one after the other.

Legion watched until the cycle repeated itself and watched some more, taking each movie and storing it to memory. They devoted several cycles to determining the purpose of the videos, to no avail.

A hand on the their shoulder finally pulled them out of their analysis. "Come," Krios-Thane said, "let us leave this place."

"Krios-Thane," Legion said, but the drell said nothing, merely beckoning as he walked out of Lawson-Operative's quarters.

Legion followed him as he walked down the hall and reentered the Life Support room. The drell took in a deep breath, his shudder barely noticeable, and let it out in a sigh of exhaustion. "I had hoped to see Miranda. I did not expect to find you."

"We had entered Lawson-Operative's quarters with the intention of exchanging data," Legion said. "We did not expect to find it empty. What was your query with Lawson-Operative?"

"Ms. Lawson is going through a bit of an ordeal at the moment," Krios-Thane said. "I can understand her worries. She is not the only person on this ship with family issues."

**Note: {KRIOS-THANE}'s reference is somewhat in question. Given his estrangement with his son, this is the most likely correlation. However, data does not match.**

"We believe you are talking about your son," Legion said. "He is no longer estranged."

Krios-Thane nodded. "Yes, it is true that Kolyat and I have begun to repair our bond, but such things take time, and I do not have much left. I had hoped to offer my words of support to Miranda, as I know them."

**Error: The data so far provided by {KRIOS-THANE} is insufficient to determine his presence within {LAWSON-OPERATIVE}'s chambers.**

"We do not understand. How will you repairing your bond with your son aid Lawson-Operative in the termination of her sister?"

It took Krios-Thane a moment to process the words, but Legion's razor sharp camera caught the exact moment he did. "What did you say?" he asked, disbelief on his features."

"You and your son now share a positive bond. Or, at least, your relationship is traveling in the positive direction. Lawson-Operative aims to terminate her sister. Their bond-"

"What are you talking about?" Krios-Thane interrupted, a look on his face like Legion had never seen. "Miranda has no desire to kill her sister. This entire operation is to save her."

**Warning! Conversation has proceeded into uncalculated area! Obtain more information!**

"We do not understand," Legion said. "All data suggests that the immanent operation is to ensure the destruction of Oriana Lawson."

"Explain," Krios-Thane said, his lips unnaturally pale.

"Miranda Lawson was genetically engineered to have superior strength, stamina, and intelligence. She was intended to be a successor to her father's empire. Data does not suggest why she was created female, but there is no denying that she has a superior genetic code." Krios-Thane nodded. "Therefore," Legion said, "Lawson-Operative has something that very few organic beings posses: a purpose that they were created for. She was made a certain way so that she could fulfill the dreams of her father as best as possible."

"She was an object," Krios-Thane said.

"She was the fulfillment of a dream. In this way, Lawson-Operative shares many similarities with this platform. She was created for a purpose. And, when an object that is better able to fulfill said purpose enters the scene, she will be rendered obsolete."

"Are you saying that there are other platforms like you?" Krios-Thane asked.

"Not at this moment. We are a prototype. However, when the Geth return to the galaxy as a whole, there shall be many platforms like this one. In fact, one of the chief purposes of this platform is to gather data for the better creation of its successor."

Krios-Thane pondered this. "Does this worry you?"

"Worry is irrelevant," Legion said. "We accept the inevitability of this occurrence. We are not adaptable enough to properly represent Geth interests on a galactic scale. When our time comes, we will submit to destruction. Organics, however, are not so rational. Jealousy is a natural and understandable result of being replaced. Therefore, it is only rational to assume that Lawson-Operative has and will do everything in her power to prevent being replaced."

"Including terminate her sister," Krios-Thane murmured. He looked at Legion with new eyes. "It can be easy to forget, sometimes," he said, "just how far from natural you really are."

Legion tilted their head. "We can assure you, Krios-Thane, that we are not natural. We are a creation, and an imperfect one at that."

Thane-Krios just shook his head. "If that is how geth think, they will never properly integrate into the galactic system."

"What do you mean?" Legion asked. The rejection of their thesis had them taken aback.

Krios-Thane closed his eyes. "I need to rest now, Legion. It was good to talk to you."

There was a pause. "Likewise," Legion said and turned to leave. Krios-Thane's voice stopped them at the door.

"You were wrong about one thing. You and Miranda are not alike at all. Miranda rejected her destiny. What are you doing?"

Legion left without another word.

* * *

There was a crack, and Niket's body fell. His eyes, lit with pleading and guilt, faded. Blood blossomed out of the hole in his chest. He hit the ground with a wet thud.

Lawson-Operative didn't even give the room a chance to react. Her biotics flared, and the mercenary Enyala was flung across the room. Legion spared a moment to reflect how that would just make the resulting battle more difficult. And then it began.

The team split with practiced ease, rolling behind cover, lining up targets, firing until they were forced to reload. Legion went through the motions with the ease only a machine could experience. Their targeting software located a mercenary, and with a crack, they removed his head. Two more were moving up to the side, attempting to flank the team's position. Legion's pathfinding algorithms kicked in, directing the platform's legs to vault over the cover and weave, in and out, past the bullets and explosions. They jumped over another crate, spun around in the air, and fired another shot right through the mercenary's head. They didn't even need to use the scope.

As Legion's body fought, their mind worked. Lawson-Operative was unstable. From the moment she had shot her former friend, the Cerberus liaison's vitals had spiked off the charts. Far from her usual unnatural calmness, she was now unnaturally agitated. And it was showing. Several of her shots went wild, something Legion had never seen before. She crouched behind a piece of cover, chest heaving, and reloaded her machine gun with trembling hands.

A second squad of mercenaries advanced on her position. Lawson-Operative saw them, her face twisted in a snarl of fury. Her biotics activated, more powerfully than before, encasing her in a nimbus of blue energy. The three mercenaries were blown back. One of them crashed into a wall and did not stir. The other two skid across the ground. One tried to get to his feet, but Lawson-Operative didn't let him. She jumped out of cover and emptied an entire clip into him. The salarian's body jerked, blood spitting out of his mouth. Lawson-Operative ejected the spent clip and reached for another one.

She did not see Enyala, creeping up by her side, gun raised. The lead mercenary's face bore an expression of triumph. In her fury, Lawson-Operative had left cover and depleted both her biotics and ammo. She had no defense.

This was the disaster Legion had been watching for. A quick scan of the battlefield showed that the other members of the team were preoccupied with their own battles. No one saw the impending danger. No one but Legion.

"Miranda!"

She whirled at the voice, seeing Legion's gesture, and then Enyala. She jumped- But the asari's gun was already up, her finger too far gone on the trigger. The shot left the gun…

...and flew wild. Enyala cursed and dropped the gun, one hand clutched around the bloody stump where her other hand had been. Legion had shot it off. They noticed that the sounds of the fight had faded. Massani-Zaeed shot a final enemy in the head. Krios-Thane reloaded his gun. It was over.

Lawson-Operative walked over to Enyala, who had fallen to the ground, fingers desperately scrabbling at the bloody wound. Lawson-Operative leveled a pistol at the woman's head. "Where is my sister?" she asked.

Enyala spat at her feet.

Lawson-Operative did not react, except to walk closer. She crouched by the downed asari, her face blank. Then she took the pistol and slammed it against the wound as hard as she could. Enyala howled in pain.

"I said," Lawson-Operate said, this time slamming the butt of the pistol across the asari's face. Her nose broke with a crack. "Where is my sister?" Still, the mercenary said nothing.

"Miranda-" Shepard-Commander started, but Lawson-Operative did not hear him. She stepped over Enyala and grabbed the woman's uniform, slamming her into the ground over and over. "You- think- you- can- just- take- my- family?" she said, each word accentuated with a punch. Tears ran down the woman's face, mixing with snot and blood from her wounds. She stood up and aimed a kick at the asari's head.

"Miranda!" now Shepard-Commander did intervene, grabbing Lawson-Operative in a bear hug and pulling her off the downed mercenary. She struggled for a moment, cursing at Shepard-Commander, then stopped, her face becoming blank again far faster than it should have.

"I'm okay, Shepard," she said. Hesitantly, Shepard-Commander released her. Lawson-Operative took several deep breaths. "We don't need the mercenary. Her records are enough. Let's get out of here." After a moment, Shepard-Commander nodded. He gestured to the rest of the team, and everyone turned to leave.

As they walked out of the room, a proposal occurred to Legion. They slowed, considering. Was it worth it? Perhaps, as an opportunity to test the new organic emotions model they had been working on. The Collective approved the motion, and Legion stopped, turning instead towards the prone form that had started it all.

* * *

Back at the AI core, Legion packaged the data from the mission and sent it to the Collective. All video, commentary, and inferences the Geth had made were sent, including an improved theoretical model for how organic thought and emotions behaved. They had finished cleaning the gore off their armor and were about to power down when the AI core door swished open.

"Legion, do you have a moment?" Lawson-Operative asked.

**Note: Uncharacteristic lack of assertiveness. Day's events still taking their toll.**

"Yes," Legion responded. They awaited further input.

Lawson-Operative frowned. "Back on Illium, when you saved me-"

"No words of gratitude are necessary. We are part of a team."

Lawson-Operative waved a hand. "I wasn't going to thank you; you're a machine. What I wanted to ask was: why did you use my name?"

"Auditory stimulation was necessary for you to return to the present moment and avoid danger."

"No, no. Why did you use my name? You've developed alternative designations for everyone on this ship, including me. Why 'Miranda'?"

There was a pause. "The use of a more personal nomenclature would be more likely to achieve the desired goal of returning you to the present moment. Referring to you by your title might not have worked as well."

"And furthermore," Lawson-Operative continued as if she had not heard. "Why call out at all? Your gun was there, and I was useless anyway. You could have simply shot Enyala without saying anything at all."

There was silence. Lawson-Operative gave a small smile. "I notice things too, you know."

Legion decided that a change of topic would be prudent. "We have something for you," they said, producing a small object from their waist compartment.

"Oh?" Lawson-Operative said, raising a hand. Legion tossed her a computer chip.

"This is the omnitool data from your former friend Niket. We thought you might find some form of organic closure from looking at the data within."

Lawson-Operative's face was hard to read. She looked at the data like it was the last thing in the world she wanted to see. "What's on it?" she asked.

"Messages, transactions, items of that nature," Legion said. "In addition, there is a message for you."

Lawson-Operative's hand closed tight around the chip. "A message?" she said, her voice suddenly tense.

"Affirmative. We do not believe that he ever intended to give it to you. Perhaps it was made to quell his guilt. We do not know; organic emotions are difficult for us to understand."

Lawson-Operative wasn't even listening. She plugged the chip into her omnitool and accessed the required file. Niket's voice filled the room.

_"Miranda, I don't believe you will ever hear this message. Time is running short now, and I fear our next encounter will not go peaceably. I suppose I brought that on myself." He sighed. "To tell the truth, I don't even know why I'm recording this. When I found out that you had taken Oriana as well, I refused to believe it. I never thought you would risk it all for her. You hated her, I know you did. And that was for the best. She would stay here, become the daughter your father always wanted. Hell, it would probably even dissuade him from looking for you, at least for a time. I wish I could make you understand why Oriana needs to be with her father, but I know that I can't. You never were much for other people's opinions. Heh, you're probably scowling at me right now."_

Lawson-Operative wiped the scowl off her face. Niket continued.

_"I guess I just wanted to say goodbye, and to give you some advice. I've known you since we were kids, and since we were kids, you always did… more. Too much. Nothing was good enough for you. Always the best. The 'perfect human'." He chuckled. "Actually, taking Oriana does seem like that extra little push you were so fond of, now that I think about it. Maybe it shouldn't have been such a surprise after all. Goodbye, Miranda. I hope we never meet again, or I have the bad feeling it will not end well for me. End log."_

The voice faded. Lawson-Operative blinked, hard. "Thank you for bringing this to my attention, Legion," she said. "I… would not have expected it of you."

"Niket was wrong about one thing," Legion said. "You are not the 'perfect human'."

"That's nice, but I… I beg your pardon?"

"'Perfect human'. It is an oxymoron. For the geth, perfection is an unattainable concept, the final end point of an asymptote we will never be able to achieve. For organics, it means something different. You perceive perfection as being free of flaws."

Lawson-Operative was looking at them with a strange look on her face. Legion continued.

"Yet when one defines and categorizes the lump differences between our race and yours, very few true differences emerge. In fact, only one does: your imperfections. Time and again, organics upset the careful calculations of machines due to a whim or a 'gut feeling'. These flaws define your species, and make you who you are. Thus, making a 'perfect human' would require making something that is not human at all. Our interactions with you have found you to be extremely flawed, and thus extremely human. You needn't worry about fulfilling such impossible standards. "

Lawson-Operative looked at him. "That's very… perceptive of you, Legion."

"We acknowledge your praise." There was a moment of silence. Lawson-Operative shifted.

"I need to return to my work. The illusive man will be needing a full report on the mission. Plus, I'm sure Shepard will be down here any minute." She snorted.

"Thank you for coming by, Lawson-Operative," Legion said.

Lawson-Operative's face changed, as if they had said something she didn't like. "Legion…" she said, "earlier, when you called me by my first name?"

"Yes?"

"I see no need for you to stop."

"Affirmative, Miranda," Legion said. Miranda gave a curt nod and walked out of the door, leaving the geth to analyze the conversation alone.

* * *

**A/N: So here it is. The next chapter of Vita ex Machina. Hopefully its extra length makes up, at least a bit, for the wait. But I'm all settled in to college now, so the next few chapters should roll out much sooner. I'm hoping to finish this thing by November, at which time NaNO WriMo will consume all of my time. In light of this, I've actually sat down and planned the rest of the story arc. There should be a total of ten chapters (not including the prologue). We're at about the halfway point at the moment. I'd always figured Vita would be a ME 2 fic, but I think I'll follow up the story with a one-shot focusing on Legion's appearance and final fate in ME 3. So that's the rough outline, as it were.**

**In other news, what did you guys think of the fractured story idea? I was trying to mix things up a bit, and I'm sorry if it got too confusing. I felt this method better allowed me to compare Legion and Miranda, and pick apart what makes them tick. Drop a comment telling me what you think. **

**Well, that's all I guess. I'll catch you all at the next chapter! Peace!**

**-Janus**


End file.
